


Itsy Bitsy Yoga

by wearing_tearing



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Fluff, Holidays, Kid Fic, M/M, Mature Epilogue, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, POV Alternating, Parent Steve Rogers, Pining, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Sharing Clothes, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, War Veteran Steve Rogers, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Yoga Instructor Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:30:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 59,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5330861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearing_tearing/pseuds/wearing_tearing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky teaches a Parent & Toddler Yoga class. Steve and his two year old son are his students.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to half of my nanowrimo project! a few things: 
> 
> 1\. this was actually inspired by otatop's sterek fic [baby yoga for beginners](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1017442), but it obviously goes in a very different direction from their fic.
> 
> 2\. it is mostly finished, yay
> 
> 3\. updates will happen every 2-3 days
> 
> 4\. everything will be posted before new years :D
> 
>  **ETA 28.12.2016** : [Russian translation available!](https://ficbook.net/readfic/4483619/12998827)

“Bucky!”

Bucky turns around, his face breaking into a smile as he watches his favorite student toddle up to him. He kneels down, arms open for a hug, and he can't help but laugh when a small body collides with his.

“Hey, pal,” Bucky says, scooping the little boy up. Little hands immediately find his arm, chubby fingers poking and prodding at the shiny metal. “Where did you come from? Class isn’t for another fifteen minutes yet. Where’s your dad?"

Bucky doesn't really know why he's asking. Lucas is only two years old, and even though it seems like he's learning a new word every week, he still hasn't mastered complete sentences.

Not that he needs to, as it turns out.

“Right here. I guess someone was too excited to wait for class to start.”

Bucky looks up, throat going dry at the sight of the man before him. Tall and big and muscled, Steve Rogers is basically the embodiment of everything Bucky is physically attracted to in a guy. It doesn't help at all that on top of _that_ , Steve is also kind and smart and a bit of an asshole, always holding his own with Bucky and Natasha whenever he comes by the studio for classes. _And_ he seems like a great dad to boot, his son, Lucas, being the center of his world.

Lucas, who Steve signed up for an Itsy Bitsy Toddler & Me Class. So not only does Bucky get to see Steve and Lucas every week, but he also gets to see Steve in yoga pants and tight shirts because he _teaches_ said Itsy Bitsy Toddler  & Me Class.

Bucky honestly thought he was going to die the first time he saw Steve. He remembers almost choking on his tongue and flushing to the tips of his ears when Steve showed up for the first day of class, Lucas at his hip, both of them decked in exercise-appropriate clothes.

It was both the hottest and most adorable thing Bucky had ever seen, and he has to admit he still has a bit of a hard time not wanting to both coo at Lucas and climb Steve like a tree whenever he sees them every week.

And okay, so maybe Bucky has a crush on Steve.

Just a tiny little one.

No one needs to know. 

And it’s not like he's going to do anything about it, not while Steve and his son are his students. Maybe not even after this week ends and the eight weeks of toddler yoga are up and they move on to other, slightly more complicated yoga classes.

Although Steve doesn’t wear a wedding ring and has never mentioned a significant other, Bucky doesn’t know if he dates. So Bucky would rather not saying anything about his own feelings than risk messing up the tentative friendship they have right now. 

“Nah.” Bucky shakes his head, a few strands of hair coming loose from his bun. “I think he just likes the shiny.” 

Bucky wiggles his fingers, winning a giddy laugh from Lucas as he tries to bring Bucky’s hand up to his mouth. 

“No, buddy.” Steve stops him with a gentle touch, his fingers brushing against the back of Bucky’s hand as he does so. “That’s not for eating.” 

Lucas frowns, little tongue sticking out as he leans forward and attempts to get at Bucky’s fingers again. 

And that is something that brings Bucky an endless amount of relief. Not that Lucas has a fascination with putting Bucky’s fingers into his mouth, but that he's not afraid of that part of Bucky. 

When Natasha talked him into teaching Yoga classes for new parents and kids up to the ages of four, Bucky had been afraid the arm would be a source of fear for the children. He was soon proven wrong, though, with the kids informing him that having a robot arm was was the coolest thing ever. 

Bucky grins down at Lucas, eyes crinkling at the corners. He ignores his wish that he could feel more with his left arm, wanting to know how the warmth of Steve’s hands would feel like against his. As good as the Stark prosthetic is, it still doesn't come close to his real arm. 

Nothing ever will. 

“Your dad’s right, kid,” Bucky says, changing arms so he's holding Lucas with his metal one and can use his other hand to tickle him. Lucas squeals in delight, trying to squirm away. “You don’t know where I’ve been.” 

“Nowhere good, believe me.” 

Bucky reels around to glare at Natasha over his shoulder. She just smiles back at him, small but amused. Bucky doesn’t let the innocent look on her face fool him for a second. 

They’ve been friends for years now, ever since they met while working a mission together. Bucky’s not sure how Natasha got involved with his Special Ops team, only that it might have had something to do with Clint, Bucky’s best and friend and team member, and the way they kept looking at each other. 

And if there’s one thing Bucky knows about Natasha is that there’s nothing innocent about her. 

Bucky narrows his eyes at her, his hand smoothing up and down Lucas’s back. “You’re not about to share classified information, are you?” 

“You know me better than that, James,” Natasha tells him, eyes glinting when Bucky wrinkles his nose. “That’s not how spies are made.” 

“Were you really a spy, though?” Steve asks, curious. “I never got a chance to figure it out when you worked with us.” 

“Neither did Tony,” Natasha replies, flipping her hair over her shoulder. 

Bucky, Clint, and Natasha got out some years ago, after one of their missions went wrong and Bucky lost his arm. While Clint went to work with security and Natasha did a brief stint working at Stark Industries — which got Bucky into a trial that resulted in him getting his prosthetic —, Bucky took a step back to reevaluate his life and priorities and try to deal with what happened to him. 

“She wasn’t,” Bucky sighs, even though he's not so sure. There are a lot of things about Natasha he still doesn't know and Clint would never tell him. “Right?” 

Natasha shrugs. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to share classified information.” 

“You know what? Forget I asked,” Steve says, shaking his head. “You should stop by, though. Maria misses you.” 

“You mean she keeps complaining about being surrounded by idiots all day?” 

“Same thing, isn’t it?” 

“I know how she feels,” Natasha sighs, tilting her head in Bucky’s direction. 

“Hey,” Bucky protests, frowning. Lucas doesn’t seem to like the expression on his face, because he rests one of his hands on Bucky’s cheek and pats it. “That’s no way to talk to your boss.” 

Natasha raises an eyebrow at him. “This place would go under without me.” 

Bucky opens his mouth to disagree, but it’s not like he can. 

Part of acclimating back to civilian life without the use of his left arm meant getting some exercise, which was how Bucky found out about the wonders of yoga and fell in love with it. Not only did it help him manage the pain he still felt, but it improved his health and helped him focus on something that wasn’t dragging him down the rabbit hole of anger and misery he was in when he first came back. It also helped that the breathing techniques were useful during panic attacks, helping him calm down when he needed it. 

So Bucky decided to pay it forward, and by doing that he opened his own yoga studio. He made the mistake of mentioning his idea to Natasha, who promptly took it upon herself to help him not only set everything up, but also to talk to everyone she knew and tell them all about it. 

Now they both run the place, even if Bucky technically owns it. They offer classes primarily to amputees and army veterans, but that has also extended to families of military personnel. Bucky teaches Itsy Bitsy Yoga and Yoga for Amputees, while Natasha and a few other trainees tackle Yoga for Veterans and other classes. 

So yes, Natasha is right when she says this place would go under without her, but mostly because this place wouldn’t be half of what it is if it wasn’t _for her_. 

“Whatever,” Bucky mutters, leaning into the warm hand Lucas still has on his cheek.

“That’s mature,” Natasha answers, smiling a little.

Bucky sticks his tongue out at her.

A second later, so does Lucas.

Bucky’s eyes widen, and his eyes go from Lucas back to Steve, who’s watching them with an unimpressed look on his face.

“Thanks a lot, Bucky,” Steve deadpans, although his lips twitch when Lucas turns to him and tries to touch his tongue to the tip of his nose.

“Sorry,” Bucky murmurs, pressing his lips together not to laugh.

He’s not that successful, considering the way his lips form a smile as Lucas gives up and sticks his tongue back into his mouth, but not before wiping his face with the back of his hand.

And okay, so maybe Bucky has a crush on Steve, but Steve is not the only one to find his way into Bucky’s heart. This little boy with blue eyes and fair hair also has Bucky wrapped around his little finger.

Who would've thought? Former sniper James Buchanan Barnes, highly trained killer and the nightmare of many men, an absolute goner for a former army Captain and his two year old son.

No one, that’s who.

Or so Bucky likes to tell himself.

Because right then he catches Natasha staring at him and Lucas, a knowing glint in her eyes.

Bucky fights the urge to stick his tongue out at her again.

Because his plan of not letting anyone know anything about it? Well, it isn't that good of a plan.

Which, for former sniper James Buchanan Barnes, is kind of embarrassing.

But Bucky shouldn’t be surprised that Natasha was the one to get it out of him, not really. She has the same kind of skills he does, if not better training. So, Natasha knows. And now Bucky has to deal with her staring at him like _that_ whenever Steve and Lucas come in and she’s around.

“No, you’re not,” Steve says, letting out a low laugh.

Bucky glances up at him, and Lucas takes the opportunity to throw himself forward and rest his head on Bucky’s shoulder, forehead pressing against the side of Bucky’s neck. Bucky’s insides melt at that gesture, cheek coming to rest on top of Lucas’s head.

“Yeah, I’m not,” Bucky admits. “But I promise not to teach him how to swear, though.”

“Gee, that’s mighty kind of you,” Steve snarks back.

“He’s around soldiers all day,” Natasha says, tracing her fingers lightly over the top of Lucas’s head. “You know it’s only a matter of time.”

“That’s comforting, Nat,” Steve blinks at her.

“You’re welcome,” Natasha pats his arm. “And I promise to stop by Stark’s this week. I’ll buy you and Maria lunch.”

“Sounds good,” Steve tells her, touching the back of her hand before she leaves.

Bucky places a kiss to Lucas’s forehead as he watches her, lips curling up as the boy snuggles closer to him. He looks down, taking in Lucas’s heavy blinks and relaxed faced.

“No falling asleep on me, pal,” Bucky says, tickling under Lucas’s chin. “We still got stuff to do today.”

“He’s comfortable,” Steve says, and the expression on his face when Bucky glances up is enough to steal his breath.

Steve looks _soft_ , the lines around his mouth and eyes smooth and relaxed. He has a smile smile playing at his lips, his eyes warm and liquid as he stares back at Bucky, gaze going from his son to Bucky and back again.

It makes something tighten in Bucky’s chest. Because he wants Steve to keep staring at him like that. He wants to keep holding Lucas to his chest and have the little boy fall asleep on him, and he wants to keep seeing them every week, not only or yoga classes but also for _other_ things. He’s gotten attached during this eight week program, gotten used to seeing them every friday afternoon, gotten used to Lucas running up to him and hugging him hello and goodbye every day they had class.

Bucky doesn't know if eight weeks is enough to fall in love with someone, but he knows that when it comes to Steve and Lucas, it could be.

Another thing Bucky knows? Well, it's that he's totally and completely _fucked_.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve watches with the ghost of a smile as Lucas snuggles into Bucky’s arms, little hand coming to rest in the middle of Bucky’s chest.

It’s something Lucas does, but only with a select few. Steve knows his kid is a happy child, but he’s suspicious of almost every new person he meets. He doesn’t have a problem with Steve’s best friend, Sam, but that’s mostly because Sam’s been there since the day Lucas was born. Otherwise, Steve is sure Lucas would stare at him with suspicion, reluctant to let Sam close to him, just like he’s with pretty much everyone else.

So it’s a surprise to Steve that Lucas seems to feel so safe and comfortable with Bucky, up to the point where he appears to be almost asleep on Bucky’s chest.

“He’s comfortable,” Steve tells Bucky as much, his chest tight.

He didn't know what to expect when Natasha told him about the yoga studio she worked at and suggested he signed up for their eight week toddler yoga summer program, but he can say that Bucky definitely wasn’t it. Steve had a vague notion of who Bucky was from his connection to both Natasha and Tony, but the first time they met was during that first Itsy Bitsy class.

To say Steve was a bit thrown when he walked in and saw Bucky standing at the front of the room, long hair in a bun, wearing a tight shirt and loose yoga pants was an understatement. It wasn’t even because of the metal arm, which Steve found all kinds of fascinating, but more because of how _attractive_ Bucky looked and how much Steve took _notice_ of that.

Ever since he became a father, Steve's love life has kind of fallen to the background. He hasn’t dated since Lucas was born, hasn’t even so much as thought about it, too busy figuring out how to raise his son by himself after Lucas’s mother left. That means he doesn’t exactly _notice_ people, unless they’re making Lucas uncomfortable or are trying to make his work life harder.

But then there’s Bucky.

And seeing him that first week was the first time Steve actually caught himself _staring_ at someone else with intent and caught himself _interested_ in the person he was looking at.

Steve has to admit he still feels a little like he’s being punched in the gut every time he brings Lucas to yoga class and sees Bucky. It doesn’t help that Lucas seems to think Bucky is the best person in the world aside from his dad,  always trying to squirm away from Steve’s grip and run to give Bucky a hug and demand attention. That makes it worse, actually, since Lucas seems so free with Bucky when he’s cautious with everyone else.

Not that Steve minds. Not at all. Not when hearing Lucas yell for him makes both his son and Bucky smile like everything is right and wonderful in the world.

“C’mon, little man,” Bucky says, bouncing Lucas in his arms in an attempt to keep him alert. “Naps are only allowed after you’ve done your stretches.”

Lucas wrinkles his nose but lifts his head up, chubby hand coming to rest on Bucky’s cheek as he babbles his displeasure.

“We wouldn’t miss our favorite yoga class to nap, would we?” Steve asks Lucas, running a hand through his son’s hair.

“No nap!” Lucas perks up, hand falling from Bucky’s face so he can raise his arms above his head. “Yoga!”

Steve can't help but smile at his son, his stomach flipping when Bucky lets out a low laugh and boops Lucas’s nose.

“That’s right, Lucas. Yoga.”

“C’mere, bud,” Steve says, taking Lucas from Bucky and pressing a kiss to his rosy cheek. “We better let Bucky get ready for class.”

“You know I don’t mind when you hang around,” Bucky tells him, fond.

Or in a tone that Steve thinks is fond. He's gotten to know Bucky a lot better in these past eight weeks, but sometimes he still finds Bucky a little hard to read. Or, if he's being honest with himself, he doesn't want to let his imagination run wild and start assuming things.

“You sure?” Steve asks anyway, because as much as he thinks Bucky means it, it doesn't hurt to double check.

It is Bucky's place of work, after all.

“Yeah. Maybe you two can even help me lay some mats around.”

Steve snorts, resting his hand flat over Lucas’s chest. “You know this one will probably end up wrapping himself around a mat and rolling on the floor.”

“Better than the kids who try to eat them,” Bucky comments, lips turning down. “I still have some mats in storage with teeth marks on them.”

Steve grimaces, and then looks down at Lucas. “We don’t eat gross things, do we?”

“No,” Lucas says, shaking his head.

"Oh, really?" Bucky drawls, ducking his head so he's eye-level with Lucas. "I remember someone trying to eat my fingers just a few minutes ago."

"I don't think you classify as a _thing_ ," Steve tells him, lips twitching up.

"But you're saying I'm gross?" Bucky gasps, all mock offense. "Thanks a lot, Rogers."

Steve laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners, the motion making Lucas join in.

"Don't know what to say, Buck. Except everyone's a little gross after doing yoga in the summer."

Bucky huffs. "We have _air conditioning_. It's not my fault if you sweat like a pig."

Steve thinks it just be his imagination, but he could swear Bucky's eyes fall to his chest as he speaks and his gaze lingers.

"You're a real jerk, Barnes," Steve says, and then turns to Lucas. "Isn't he, buddy?"

Lucas looks from him to Bucky and back again before smiling and saying, "No!"

Steve makes a face at his son at the same time Bucky throws his head back and laughs, entire body shaking with it.

"Well, on that high note," Bucky starts, still chuckling, "we better start getting things ready."

"Sure thing. Just lead the way."

And Bucky does, but not before raising a hand and high-fiving Lucas as he says quietly, "Thanks for having my back, pal."

Steve wills his heart to stay in his chest and not melt into a puddle at that exchange, following Bucky to their class.

It goes as Steve thought it would, with him helping Bucky lay down the mats for those who don’t bring their own to the class and Lucas running around and bumping into their legs as he laughs. At least Steve doesn’t have to worry about Lucas wrapping himself in one mat and being unable to breathe, but he can’t help but tense a little whenever Lucas falls on his butt to the floor.

Yoga has done wonders for his balance, but every once in a while Lucas still trips on his own feet or tries to run faster than his legs can move and falls. He usually just looks confused to be sitting down instead of standing up like a second ago, but he braces his hands on the floor and pushes himself right back up.

Or sometimes someone helps him, like right now, as Bucky reaches down with his metal hand and waits for Lucas to grip his fingers.

“Up you go, pal,” Bucky says, pulling Lucas up and ruffling his hair.

Steve’s heart twists, warmth rushing through his body as Lucas hugs Bucky’s leg and then goes off running around again.

“I can’t imagine having that much energy,” Bucky huffs, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

“Try having to follow him around when he learned that running was a _thing_ ,” Steve replies, intercepting Lucas halfway through another lap around the room by grabbing him under his arms and lifting him up.

“Daddy!” Lucas yells in delight, quicking out his legs as Steve pretends to eat his stomach. “Down!”

That’s why Steve misses the way Bucky swallows hard as he watches them, but he doesn’t miss the tenderness on Bucky’s face as he presses a kiss to Lucas’s forehead and puts him down.

Not that Steve has a chance to say anything about it — not that he’s sure he wants to or even is ready to —, because as soon as Bucky realizes Steve is _looking_ , he smooths out his expression. Not that it matters much. Bucky can look as blank as he wants, but he can’t erase the way the tips of his ears turn red under Steve’s gaze.

And it’s Steve’s turn to swallow past his dry throat, heart speeding up in his chest. He can’t deny he’s attracted to Bucky, has been since the moment he first saw him. It’s just that Steve doesn’t really know what to _do_ about it.

He doesn’t know if he’s ready to make a move, doesn’t really know if he _wants_ to. If it was just him, he would have asked Bucky out the first time they met, but he has his little boy to consider. Not that he thinks Bucky wouldn’t be great with Lucas, because he obviously is. But there is a big difference between seeing a child once a week and trying to raise them.

Friends Steve knows he’s good with. He has Sam, Natasha, Maria, and even Tony and Pepper, all people who were there for him and continue to support him. And at least half of them would encourage him to ask Bucky out, while Sam would probably not say anything and just stare at him until Steve huffed and flipped him off.

But Steve… well, he’s just not sure.

And even if he was, it might not be as simple as just asking Bucky out on a date. While Steve worries about bringing someone more permanently to Lucas’s life, he knows how scary that is to some people. Just because Bucky is okay with teaching Lucas and having him around a few minutes before and after classes, it doesn’t mean he’s okay with being a bigger part of his life. And that can’t be helped, when Lucas is the most important person in _Steve_ ’s life.

So Steve doesn’t know what to do about this, doesn’t know what to do about _Bucky_.

He tries not to think about it as people start arriving for class, tries not to think about it as Bucky says hello to everyone and gives them a welcoming smile. He absolutely does _not_ think about it when Bucky begins by regulating their breathing and moves on with a pose, focusing instead on his own positioning and on helping Lucas stay balanced. He spends so much time not thinking about it, that when he actually lets himself glance at Bucky with something other than concentration to make sure he’s getting the positions right, Bucky is bringing their final week of class to an end.

Steve hangs behind as all the parents and kids talk to Bucky and say their thanks and goodbye, observing those who ask about the next level class and when the program begins. Bucky answers them all with a smile, shaking hands with the parents and giving each of the kids a hug.

It’s only when after everyone but Steve and Lucas have left that Bucky’s smile turns a bit tight, his eyes sad as he crouches down in front of Lucas and scoops him up in a tight hug.

“I know I’m not supposed to pick favorites, but you can keep my secret, can’t you?” Bucky asks him, glancing up at Steve and giving him a sad little smile.

“We won’t tell,” Steve says softly, eyes following as Bucky stands up, taking Lucas with him.

“Pinky promise,” Bucky says, hooking his metal pinky with Lucas’s own and shaking it once.

Lucas grabs at Bucky with his free hand, babbling as he runs his palm up and down the plates on Bucky’s arm.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone like the arm so much,” Bucky mutters.

“You’re not a big fan of it?” Steve asks before he can’t stop himself, and then winces when Bucky gives him a flat look. “Sorry. That was a stupid question.”

“It really was.” Bucky nods, curling and uncurling his fingers so Lucas can see the metal plates of his arm shift. “Gotta say I was a bigger fan of my real arm, but this one’s not so bad. At least your boy likes it.”

“Lucas has a thing with robots,” Steve tells him. “You should see him at my boss’s workshop.”

Bucky snorts, shaking his head. “I can imagine. I bet he loves it.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve says with a shrug. “He’ll never say it.”

Bucky makes a little sound of agreement in the back of his throat and then sighs, dropping his head and nuzzling at Lucas’s hair. Lucas just tugs at Bucky’s hand and presses it against his cheek.

“It’s not like we’re going away forever, you know?” Steve comments, and doesn’t fight the urge to brush his fingers against Bucky’s forearm.

“Still,” Bucky says, raising his head. “I meant it when I said you’re my favorites.”

“Both of us?” Steve jokes, and sees again as the tips of Bucky’s ears turn red, his own stomach flipping.

“Shuddup,” Bucky mutters, and looks down at Lucas. “Your dad thinks he’s so funny, but guess what?”

“What?” Lucas asks, fingers wrapped around Bucky’s wrist.

“He’s _not_.”

“You just said I was your favorite,” Steve reminds him.

Bucky narrows his eyes at him. “I take it back. I only like Lucas.”

“Me?” Lucas looks up at him.

“Yes, only you,” Bucky says, brushing a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m gonna miss you, bud.”

“We’ll still be here. I’m signing us up for more classes.”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one who teaches them,” Bucky sighs, lips turned down.

“We’ll stop by to say hello,” Steve tells him. “You’ll get sick of us.”

“I think that’s impossible,” Bucky says, so low Steve almost misses it.

But he doesn’t and his eyes find Bucky’s, who stares back at him, unblinking.

Steve is suddenly filled with the urge to _say_ something, to _do_ something. He wants to tell Bucky this doesn’t have to end, that they can not only see each other when Steve stops by with Lucas for more classes, but they can also maybe meet up somewhere else. He wants to reach out and touch Bucky, trace the lines of his face, feel how warm his skin is, see if his hair is as softer as it looks.

Something must show on his face, because Bucky’s gaze goes from something akin to sadness to surprise and maybe a bit of cautious hope. But then Steve is struck again with uncertainty, struck with not knowing if this is the right thing to do for himself _and_ for Lucas, not knowing if he’s _ready_ to take that step.

So he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he looks away from Bucky, shifting on his feet before saying, “We should get going.”

“Right,” Bucky answers, clearing his throat. “Right. I hope you two had fun these eight weeks we spent together.”

“We did,” Steve assures him, reaching out a hand to Lucas. “And we’ll come back for the next level class.”

“I’ll see you around, then.”

“You will,” Steve says, and it’s true.

As nervous and as uncertain as he is about this, he knows how much Lucas likes Bucky. He would have come back just so his kid could see him for a few minutes a week.

“Bye bye, Lucas,” Bucky says, hugging Lucas again before passing him to Steve.

“Bye,” Lucas waves, reluctantly letting go of Bucky’s hand.

“See you, Bucky,” Steve says, offering him a smile. “And thanks for everything.”

“Any time, Steve. I’ll see you.”

“C’mon, buddy,” Steve says, putting Lucas down and taking his hand. “Time to go home.”

Steve gives Bucky one last smile before walking away, heart heavy and mind reeling as he wonders if he made the right decision.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re pining.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's not a lot of stevebucky interaction, but next chapter will fix that. this one is all about the pining :D

“You’re pining.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky says, fingers picking at the label on his beer bottle.

“James.”

Bucky wrinkles his nose. “ _Natalia_.”

“She’s right, you know? You’re so sad you’re making Lucky sad.” Clint pointedly looks down at his dog, who’s currently sprawled on the floor, head in its paws, blinking blearily up at them.

“He’s not sad, he just ate too much pizza.” At the mention of pizza, Lucky perks up, totally proving Bucky’s point. “ _See_?”

“Don’t try to change the subject,” Natasha warns him, eyes narrowing.

“I’m not,” Bucky lies. “And I’m not pining.”

He knows he doesn’t sound convincing, but when he’s spending the night in his apartment watching bad tv and drinking with his closest friends he doesn’t really bother trying harder to seem less pathetic. Especially considering his two closest friends used to work with him and know all of his tricks and could spot lies a million miles away. Oh, and they've _known him for years_.

“It’s okay to miss them, you know,” Natasha tells him, patting Bucky’s arm. “Even though you still see Steve and Lucas every week.”

“I don’t miss them,” Bucky mumbles, making Clint snort.

“Sure you don’t,” Clint says. “And Natasha couldn’t kill me with her thighs.”

Natasha preens, her lips curling up. They all know how much of a lie that is, just as they all know that Bucky _does_ miss Steve and Lucas and that he _is_ pining.

Not that he’ll admit it.

Or, okay, not that he’ll admit it to anyone but himself.

Because like Natasha said, Bucky still sees them every week.

As July wears on into August, Steve keeps his promise and signs himself and Lucas up for another yoga program for kids, and he keeps coming to the studio every week. The only difference is that they don’t talk as much as they used to, seeing as Bucky is usually busy finishing a class when they show up or starting a new one when they leave.

So yes, Bucky misses them.

A lot.

More than he thought he would, after only knowing them for eight weeks.

“Fine,” Bucky sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I miss them. There, I said it. Are you happy now?”

Bucky knows he’s not the only one feeling that way. Well, at least when it comes to Lucas.

The first week of August Steve and Lucas come by for the start of their next level class. They catch Bucky just at the end of one of his other classes, saying goodbye to people. Bucky sees them out of the corner of his eye, Lucas beaming and waving at Bucky, while Steve smiles down at his son and tries to keep him from running.

When Steve finally lets Lucas loose, the little boy goes straight to Bucky, just like he always does. Bucky catches him in a tight hug, and he and Steve talk for a few minutes while Lucas tries to catch Bucky’s metal fingers. But when the time comes for them to say their goodbyes so they can all go to their respective classes, things don’t turn out so well.

To say Bucky is surprised and heartbroken at the way Lucas’s chin starts trembling when Steve takes him back and starts walking away is an understatement.

“No Bucky?” Lucas asks, eyes shining.

Steve shakes his head. “Not for this class, buddy.”

The tears that follow that statement only make things worse. Steve seems as taken aback as Bucky is, trying to calm Lucas down and apologizing to Bucky at the same time.

“Hey, hey,” Bucky rushes in, rubbing his hand up and down Lucas’s back. “It’s alright, pal. You’ll still see me lots.”

“But no Bucky.” Lucas sniffs, hand reaching out so he can grab hold of Bucky’s shirt. “Want Bucky.”

Bucky swears his heart breaks into a million pieces right then and there. If going by the look on Steve’s face, he’s on the same plate.

“We’ll come talk to Bucky every week,” Steve sooths, hand resting in the middle of Lucas’s chest. “Just like we used to. We’ll just have a different yoga teacher this time.”

Lucas sniffs again, fat tears running down his face. “No. Want Bucky.”

It takes them about ten minutes to call Lucas down, after a lot of hugs and promises that they’ll see each other again. Bucky even offers to walk them to their class and introduce them to their new teacher.

“You don’t have to do that.” Steve mutters, holding Lucas’s close. “We shouldn’t even be bothering you right now. You have work to do. If I thought he was going react like this, I would have taken him straight to class.”

“I want to do this,” Bucky assures him. “And I’m not upset because I’ll be a little late. I’m upset because _he’s_ upset. Seein’ him crying just about breaks my heart.”

“Welcome to parenthood,” Steve mumbles, eyes sad.

Bucky ignores the way his stomach flips at that, and focuses on the task at hand. Kate, the teacher for this class, doesn’t seem at all surprised to see him, and she gamely stands there with a small smile as Bucky and Steve try to convince Lucas everything’s going to be okay. By the end of it, Lucas seems a bit suspicious of her, but at least he’s not crying anymore.

He’s a little late for his own class, but all of his students are understanding. As Bucky settles into position and starts with the breathing exercises, he finds his own sense peace, and when class comes to an end, he’s a lot less worried about what went down.

That is, until he finds Steve waiting outside of his class, arms crossed over his chest, face miserable.

“Is everything okay? Where’s Lucas?”

“He’s with Natasha,” Steve replies, and then sighs. “I’m really sorry about today. We shouldn’t have disrupted your work. I’ll stop bringing Lu—“

“Woah, hey, no,” Bucky cuts him off. “It’s fine. We didn’t know how upset he’d be.”

Steve snorts, unamused. “You’re one of his favorite people in the world. I should’ve guessed.”

Bucky preens a little inside at hearing that, but quickly pushes that feeling down. Now it’s not the time for this.

“Well,” Bucky starts, and then clears his throat. “The feeling’s mutual. So believe me when I say I don’t mind having you two around. Kinda makes my day better, to be real honest with you.”

Steve blinks, something flashing in his eyes, so quick Bucky can’t make sense of it. “If you’re sure,” he says, hesitating only a little.

“Positive.”

So yes, Bucky is sure Lucas misses him just as much. But Steve is another matter entirely. And as the month passes and nears its end, Steve’s still somewhat of a mystery to him.

“No, James, we’re not happy,” Natasha tells him, shaking her head. “Do you know why?”

“Because I’m dragging the mood down?”

“Because _you’re_ not happy, you dumbass,” Clint says, kicking Bucky’s foot with his own. “I’ve heard from reliable sources that you look like someone killed your cat whenever Steve and Lucas walk away from you.”

“Are your sources Natasha? Because she lies, you know. She’s a _spy_. That’s what they do,” Bucky says, eyes big and innocent. “And I don’t have a cat,” he adds.

Natasha rolls her eyes at him while Clint just stares back, unimpressed.

“My sources are Kate, actually,” Clint says, smiling when Bucky groans. “And she also said Steve looks just as sad at the start of her class. She’d take offense, but she knows it’s not her fault she’s not _you_.”

Bucky makes a little miserable sound in the back of his throat, slumping further on the couch. He knows there’s a blush covering his cheeks and the tips of his ears, but it’s not like he can help it. He can’t hide how pleased he is at this news, even if he doubts Kate’s assessment of the situation.

Because while it might be clear that Lucas does like Bucky and misses having class with him, Steve never gave any indication that he feels the same way. Sure, Steve still stops by every week to say hello to Bucky and smiles and laughs and doesn’t comment on Bucky’s sad looks when he hugs Lucas tight to him and kisses his forehead, but he never says anything. Not even when they parted ways after their last class together did Steve say he’d miss him, only promising Bucky they’d see more of each other.

So as much as Bucky wants to believe Kate on the subject, he’s a little reluctant to do so.

“Maybe they just don’t like her class,” Bucky says weakly.

“I’m telling Kate you said that,” Clint replies, taking a sip of his beer. “And then I’m sitting back and watching as she makes your life a living hell.”

“Maybe Steve will save him,” Natasha pipes up, a faint smirk playing at her lips. “I’m sure Bucky would like that.”

“I would _not_ ,” Bucky snaps back, and he can feel his blush deepening. “I can save myself. From anything. I am a highly trained officer. I’ve _killed people_.”

“And yet you can’t seem to gather up the courage to ask Steve out,” Natasha points out.

And there it is. That was the point Clint and Natasha wanted to make when they invited themselves over to Bucky’s place.

Bucky should have known. He’s ashamed he didn’t figure it out earlier.

Something must show on his face, because Clint kicks him again and says, sounding unsympathetic, “This is what you get for teaching people to stretch and breathe instead of honing in your skills. You’ve gotten rusty.”

“It’s because I teach people to stretch and breathe that your girlfriend can put her ankles behind her head,” Bucky complains.

And then promptly gets smacked in the face with a throw pillow.

“That wasn’t nice of you,” Natasha says. “Apologize to me.”

“You’re right, it was uncalled for. I’m sorry.”

“Good.” Natasha nods. “Because I don’t owe my flexibility to you. I could already do that before I even knew you two existed.”

“And I am very grateful for that,” Clint says somberly, tipping his bottle at her.

Natasha winks at him.

Bucky looks up at his ceiling and wonders what he did to deserve friends like these.

“But really, man,” Clint says, bringing Bucky’s attention back to him. “You should ask him out.”

Bucky swallows, shaking his head. “I don’t think so.”

Natasha tilts her head to the side and stares at him, considering. “Why not?”

Bucky opens and closes his mouth a few times without saying anything, and then shrugs.

“Oh, yes,” Clint deadpans. “That explains it.”

Bucky lets out a slow breath, tucking his hair behind his ear. “I don’t know if he’s even into guys,” he finally says. “He also has a kid. And even though he never said anything about Lucas’s mom, that doesn’t mean she’s not in the picture _or_ that he’s not already seeing someone.”

“Ah.” Clint clicks his tongue. “ _That_ explains it.”

“He’s not seeing anyone,” Natasha assures him. “And even though I’m not comfortable sharing information about Steve’s private life, I can still tell you he wouldn’t be offended if you asked him out.”

“Of course he wouldn’t,” Bucky mumbles. “He’s too good for that.”

“That’s cute,” Clint says, batting his lashes.

Bucky kicks him.

“ _Boys_ ,” Natasha warns, narrowing her eyes at them.

“Anyway, that’s why I don’t want to do anything about my…,” Bucky trails off, waving a hand in front of him.

“Feelings?” Clint offers.

“Thanks, Clint,” Bucky huffs.

“No problem, buddy.”

“I don’t even know if Steve _wants_ to date someone,” Bucky says. “And if he does, he has Lucas. He might be okay with letting me teach his son how to do yoga poses, but he might not be okay with me doing more than that or being something other than a teacher to him.”

“Ah,” Clint says again. “That _certainly_ explains it.”

“You don’t know if Steve is ready to date or if he even _wants_ to date,” Natasha says. “And if he is and does, you don’t know if he thinks you’re good enough to be around his son in a more permanent capacity than just his yoga instructor.”

Bucky presses his lips together, ducking his head. “That’s it. And I don’t want to say anything and end up making things awkward between us. I like him a lot. And Lucas.”

Natasha snorts. “Steve wouldn’t let that happen. He’s too much of a good guy.”

Bucky is aware. That’s half the reason he found himself in this situation in the first place. _That_ and Steve’s good looks and the way he is with his son.

So Bucky just answers, “That doesn’t really help.”

Because it really doesn’t.

It only makes it all worse.

“Look,” Natasha turns to him, tucking her legs under her. “I’m not going to push you into doing things you don’t want to do.”

Bucky gasps at her, all mock surprise. “Who _are_ you?”

“James,” Natasha sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Nat,” Bucky sighs back.

“You should think about it,” Natasha continues. “You seem to really like him, and I don’t think anything bad will come out of it if you ask him out.”

“But maybe something really good will,” Clint adds.

Bucky bites down on his bottom lip. “I don’t know.”

“Think about it,” Natasha says again, reaching out to tug at a strand of Bucky’s hair. “And if he says no, I’ll let you and Clint challenge me to a paintball game.”

“You’ll lose,” Bucky and Clint say at the time.

Natasha shrugs. “Will I?”

Bucky takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He looks down at Lucky, still sprawled on the floor. “What do you think?”

Lucky opens an eye and stares at him for a second before closing it again.

“That’s a yes,” Clint informs him, smiling a little.

“Ugh, fine.” Bucky throws a hand up. “I’ll think about asking Steve out.”

“Good,” Natasha says, and then pokes Bucky with her foot. “Now pass me the remote. _How to Get Away with Murder_ starts soon.”

Bucky grumbles, but he doesn’t stop Clint when he reaches for the remote and throws it to Natasha. He’s too busy wondering if he made a mistake by telling them he’ll think about asking Steve on a date, and telling himself that thinking about it doesn’t actually mean the same thing as _doing it_.

Even if he kind of wants to.

A _lot_.

 

* * *

 

“Well, someone’s looking grumpier than usual.”

Steve presses his lips in a thin line, jaw clenching. “Shut up, Tony.”

“Is that any way to talk to your boss?” Tony gasps, all mock offense. “Hill, are you listening to this?”

Maria doesn’t look up from her computer screen, but Steve doesn’t have to see her face to know that she’s rolling her eyes. Neither does Tony, if judging by the face he makes.

And Steve knows he should be more polite, but when it comes to Tony he also knows they’re friends before anything else.

They met through Tony’s best friend, Rhodey, and after a lot of fighting and cursing and rubbing each other the wrong way, they settled into a tentative friendship. It might have had something to do with  Sam and Rhodey taking them to a bar and getting them drunk, but both he and Tony like to pretend they got their heads out of their asses on their own. Their friendship only grew after Lucas was born, and now Steve considers Tony one of his best friends.

That still doesn’t stop Steve from saying, “Pepper is my boss.”

Because as much as Steve loves him, Tony can be annoying as fuck when Steve’s trying to work.

“Details,” Tony says, waving a hand and almost knocking Steve’s pens off the desk. He flops down on the chair directly in front of Steve, legs crossed at the ankles, hands folded over his stomach. “So.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at him. “Is there anything I can help you with, Mr. Stark?”

“Don’t Mr. Stark me.” Tony makes a face. “It makes me feel old _and_ it reminds me of dear old dad.”

Steve sighs, eyes falling from Tony to the keyboard in front of him. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s Bucky,” Maria pipes up, still not bothering to look up from her work.

Tony perks up at the same time Steve groans, lips stretching into a grin. “Who’s Bucky?”

“The yoga instructor Steve won’t shut up about,” Maria explains, sounding all kinds of amused and annoyed.

“You’re taking yoga classes?” Tony looks at him, leaning forward in his seat. “How did I not know this? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You _did_ know this.” Steve makes a face at him. “I told you I was signing Lucas up for toddler yoga.”

“I didn’t know _you_ were also taking them,” Tony tells him. “Since you're _not a toddler_. And that apparently you have a _crush_ on the teacher.”

Steve looks up, a silent request for strength. And then he turns to Maria,  because he knows he’ll never hear the end of it now. Nevermind that she’s absolutely right.

“Hill, _why_?”

Maria shrugs one shoulder, fingers working quickly as she types. “Because I’m tired of hearing you talk about how great he is and how kind he is and how much Lucas likes him and misses his classes. It’s been a month. It’s annoying.”

Steve makes a little sound in the back of his throat. He’d think that after working together for as long as they have, she’d have his back on this. He should know better. She _is_ friends with Natasha, after all.

“I don’t talk about him that much.”

Maria looks up at him at that, face blank. “Sure.”

“I don’t,” Steve says, frowning.

And he doesn’t, not really. Or at least he doesn't think so. He talks about Bucky as much as someone would talk about someone they’ve met and liked and considered themselves friends with. Especially considering how important Bucky is to Lucas. But Maria makes it sounds like out of ten words from Steve’s mouth, seven of them are about Bucky, which Steve knows not to be true.

Maybe.

Possibly.

Steve knows he _thinks_ about Bucky a lot, more than he probably should, but it’s not like that translates to him _talking_ about the man all the time. Right?

 _Right_?

“You’re thinking about him right now, aren’t you?”

Yeah okay, so Steve does have a crush on Bucky. So _what_?

Tony’s voice breaks Steve out of his thoughts, and when he focuses again it’s to find Tony smirking at him.

“No,” Steve lies. “I’m thinking about all the work I have to do and how you’re keeping me from it.”

Maria snorts, shaking her head at him. “Natasha’s right.”

Steve turns to her, throat dry. Hearing someone say Natasha is right about something isn’t not usually a good thing. “What?”

“You two must be as bad as each other,” Maria tells him, without bothering to explain what she means.

Steve scrubs a hand over his face, suddenly tired of all of this.

“Steve.”

“What, Tony?”

“You know it’s not a bad thing,” Tony says, voice low and face grave. “If you do like this James person.”

Steve blinks, ignoring half of what Tony says in order to ask, “How do you know his name is James?”

Tony gives him a look as if to say _are you really asking me this_ and then points at the Stark phone he’s holding. “I am a genius, you know. Finding out who people are isn’t exactly a hard time for me.”

“Please tell me you didn’t hack into his military files,” Steve asks, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Okay,” Tony says, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t hack into his military files.”

“ _Tony!_ Those things are _private!_ ”

“What? It’s not like you were going to tell me about him!”

Steve opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, because that’s not really a lie. Steve had no plans to mention Bucky to anyone, at least not until he decided for himself if he was going to ignore Bucky and all the feelings he brought to light or if he was going to _do_ something about it.

“That doesn’t matter.” Steve lets out a breath, hands curling into fists. “You shouldn’t be invading his privacy like that.”

Tony frowns down at his phone, ignoring him. “And you didn’t tell me he had one of my arms. Is he the one Natasha bullied me into accepting for the prosthetics trial?”

“Yes,” Steve answers. “And we all know she didn’t bully you. All she had to do was ask.”

Tony shifts in his seat, uncomfortable. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Steve’s lips twitch up. “Sure you don’t.”

“You do know Natasha is one of James’s best friends,” Maria tells Tony. “I don’t think she’ll appreciate you gathering intel about him.”

Steve knows what Maria is doing, and he can’t help but give her a grateful look.

“I’m sure she won’t mind,” Tony dismisses her.

“And I’m sure you won’t be saying that when she shows up at your house and shaves your goatee while you’re sleeping.”

Tony’s hand flies to his face as if to protect himself. “You’re not going to tell her, are you?”

Maria just smiles a ghost of a smile and goes back to work.

“Steve?” Tony turns to him, eyes a bit wide.

“I _should_ ,” Steve replies, and then grimaces. “But I won’t _if_ you promise to leave Bucky alone.”

“I never bothered him in the first place,” Tony argues.

“Tony.”

“ _Steve_.”

Steve grabs his phone, unlocking the screen. “I’m calling Natasha.”

“Don’t be hasty,” Tony says, leaning over the desk and trying to grab Steve’s phone.

Steve just raises it over his head and away from Tony, placing his other hand flat on Tony’s shoulder to keep him in place.

“Tony, promise me.”

Tony stops squirming, eyes searching Steve’s face. Whatever he finds there makes him sit back down in his chair, expression serious.

“Okay, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Steve says, putting his phone down.

“You should be thankful. You have no idea how hard this is for me, Steve.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Steve says dryly, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

Tony points a finger at him but doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to get up and leave the office. But not before swiping Steve’s coffee mug from his desk and draining it dry.

Steve glares at his back, annoyed.

“As much as I hate to say it, Tony’s right,” Maria starts after a few minutes of blissful silence, Steve looking up at her in confusion. “It’s not a bad thing if you like James.”

“Not you too,” Steve grumbles.

“I’m just saying. It’s something to think about,” Maria answers. “You haven’t exactly dated anyone since Lucas was born, and being a single dad is not a death sentence to your love life.”

Steve’s stomach churns, heart beating faster. “Maria…”

“Something to think about,” she repeats, and then goes back to work.

And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it?

_Thinking about it._

Which seems to be all Steve does as the hours tick by, keeping him distracted from the actual work he needs to be doing. But as his mind reels and his thoughts spin, he always comes back to the same thing: he doesn’t know if he’s ready for whatever Bucky means to him. For whatever Bucky _could_ mean to him.

He only snaps out of it when it’s time for him to leave work, saying goodbye to Maria. She just gives him a nod and doesn’t mention the fact that Steve wasn’t as productive today as he usually is. But it’s not until Steve makes his way to the daycare to pick Lucas up that he starts feeling a little better, a little less scattered.

It helps that as soon as he sees him, Lucas greets him with the same enthusiasm he shows Bucky whenever they’re at the studio. His son smiles and squeals and runs to him, arms already raised so Steve can scoop him up in a hug.

Steve smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Hey, bud.”

“Hi, Daddy,” Lucas says, giving Steve’s cheek a wet kiss in return.

“How was your day?” 

“Good,” Lucas tells him, fingers curling and uncurling around Steve’s shirt.

“Is that so?” Steve looks at Jean, Lucas’s teacher, for confirmation.

“It is,” Jean says with a smile, handing Lucas’s bag to Steve. “We had a lot of fun playing and coloring today.”

“And we didn’t try to eat the crayons?” Steve rubs a hand up and down Lucas’s back.

Jean laughs, eyes crinkling. “Maybe just once.”

Steve and Lucas wave their goodbyes, stopping on their way home to hit the grocery store. Steve settles Lucas in the cart, letting him play with a pack of cookies as they shop.

“We don’t want to listen to Uncle Sam complain about us eating takeout again, do we?”

“No?” Lucas asks, frowning up at him.

“No.” Steve shakes his head, grabbing a bag pasta. “But he’s going to have to be happy with pasta.”

“‘Ghetti?” Lucas perks up, trying to look over his shoulder.

“With meatballs.”

“Yeah!” Lucas says, raising his arms up and accidentally hitting Steve in the chin with the cookies.

Steve hisses, one hand coming up to rub at his chin while the other wraps around Lucas’s wrist. “Careful, Lucas.”

“Ouch?”

Steve leans down a little, face close to Lucas. “Yeah, kid. Ouch.”

Lucas brings his empty hand up, fingers tapping lightly at Steve’s chin. “Shh, shh. All good now.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, running a hand through Lucas’s hair. “Thank you.”

“Welcome, Daddy.”

“So spaghetti with meatballs for dinner,” Steve starts. “And I think Uncle Sam is bringing dessert.”

“Cake?” Lucas asks. “Cookies? Candy?”

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll see.”

And they do, about two and a half hours later when they hear the jingle of keys in the lock and Sam yelling from the hall, “Guys, I’m home!”

“Uncle Sam!” Lucas yells back from his chair, hands smacking the table.

“There’s my favorite guy.” Sam grins, dropping a plate of cookies on top of the table and picking Lucas up. He holds Lucas upside down, pretending to bite at his stomach, grin widening when Lucas laughs. “How you doin’, Lucas?”

Lucas is too busy hanging from Sam’s grip and smiling to answer.

“He’s going to get dizzy if you keep that up,” Steve warns him, setting the food on the table.

“And there’s my  _least_ favorite guy,” Sam says, placing Lucas back on his chair.

“See if I feed you now.”

“You’d never let me starve, man.” Sam comes up to him and gives him a hug, patting his back a few times. “You like me too much.”

“You mean I like your  _baking_ too much,” Steve corrects him, smiling despite himself.

Both of those statements are true, although Steve does appreciate Sam more than his baked goods.

It’s partially due to Sam that Steve is even here right now. They met at one of the VA meetings Steve went to after he was discharged and sent back home, and Sam played a huge part on acclimating Steve back into civilian life. Sam had been home for a little over a year at that point, still trying to work through and deal with his own trauma, but he was to Steve the proof that things could be okay again.

Right now Sam just gives him a look, and then shrugs. “Can’t deny my talent. My stuff is  _delicious_ .”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

“Damn right.”

Steve smiles, telling Sam to pipe down so they can eat.

Dinner goes as it usually does whenever Sam stops by: with lots of conversation, teasing, laughter and Lucas trying his best get tomato sauce all over his face. It’s not until after they’re done, the dishes stacked in the sink, that Sam turns serious, eyes assessing Steve in a way it means he’s seeing more than Steve wants him to.

“Something happened,” Sam says, eyes narrowed. “Or something’s  _been_ happening, but it’s only bothering you now.”

Steve makes a face at him, cleaning Lucas’s face with a damp washcloth. “Let me tuck Lucas in first?”

Sam glances down at Lucas, who is scrunching his nose up and trying to move away from Steve’s touch. His lids are also dropping, mouth opening in a yawn as Steve cleans him up.

“Sure, man.”

So Steve helps Lucas brush his teeth and get ready for bed, laying him down on the mattress and tucking the covers up to his chin. Lucas moves around until he’s comfortable, his dinosaur plush hugged tightly to his chest.

“Night, Lucas,” Steve says, bending down to kiss him. “Love you.”

“Good night, Daddy,” Lucas mumbles. “Me too.”

Sam is sprawled on the couch when Steve returns to the living room, the plate of leftover cookies balanced on his stomach.

“You better not leave crumbs on my couch.”

Sam salutes him, and then pats the spot beside him. “C’mon, talk to me.”

Steve’s shoulders slump and he sits down. He’s had a lot of conversation with Sam along the years that started this way, and he finds himself a lot less reluctant to talk now as he used to be then. Mostly because he knows it’s useless to keep things to himself. He’ll just end up calling Sam in the middle of the night after a panic attack and spill everything anyway.

So Steve takes a deep breath, goes right ahead, and says, “You know about Bucky.”

“I do, yes.” Sam nods. Unlike Maria, he doesn’t make a comment about how much Steve mentions him, which is why Sam is Steve’s favorite when it comes to talking about things that make him uncomfortable. “What about Bucky?”

Steve swallows around a lump in his throat, everything rushing back to him as he tells Sam about Tony and Maria’s comments, about meeting and getting to know Bucky, about Lucas and how much he likes Bucky. Steve tells him everything, all that’s been running to his mind since he started Itsy Bitsy Yoga classes almost three months ago. When he’s done, he slumps further into the couch, head resting against it, refusing to meet Sam’s eyes.

That is, until Sam pokes him in the stomach and says, “Here, have a cookie.”

Steve can’t help but snort. “I don’t think a cookie will help me.”

“Eat it anyway,” Sam tells him, poking him again.

Steve sighs and snatches a cookie from the plate, taking a bite and chewing slowly.

“So, tell me again what the problem is,” Sam prompts.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to date anyone.”

“Which is something you only thought about because you want to see Bucky,” Sam offers.

“Yes,” Steve admits, looking and sounding miserable. “Can I have another cookie?”

“Steve, you can have all the cookies if you want.”

Steve takes the plate from Sam, grabbing another cookie and taking a bite. “I know I haven’t exactly—,” Steve stops, wrinkling his nose at himself. “I know I kind of shut down that part of my life after Lucas was born. At first it was because I was so overwhelmed by being a  _father_ and having to raise him alone, but later I… I guess I didn’t think about it. Didn’t think it was that important. And dating while being a single parent isn’t really easy.”

Not that Steve would really know. He had the bad luck of going on exactly  _one_ date when Lucas was around six months old, not because he really wanted to but because he thought he should. Steve spent the entire night worrying about his son, and as soon as he mentioned being a father to his date, they excused themselves to go to the bathroom and didn’t come back.

Steve doesn’t want to go through anything like  _that_ again. Even though the point is moot with Bucky, since he’s well aware Steve comes with a two year old.

But still.

“Look, Steve,” Sam says, low and kind. “I won’t pretend to know how this feels, you know I won’t. I also won’t tell you what to do.”

“You never do,” Steve mutters.

“It’s important for people to make their own choices,” Sam reminds him. “The only person who knows what’s right for you and Lucas right now is  _you_ , no matter what anyone else says about it.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“I’m not done.” Sam knocks their knees together. “Even though I just said that what other people say and their opinions about this don’t matter, I’d be feeling like I’m failing my best friend duties if I didn’t put in my two cents.”

“You’re not going to tell me to ask him out, are you?” Steve scowls.

“I’m going to tell you that this is the happiest I’ve seen you in a while, Steve,” Sam replies. “And that’s all I want. For you to be happy. If that involves a hot yoga instructor, good. If it doesn’t, also good.”

“I don’t know if it does,” Steve whispers.

“You’ve got time to figure it out.” Sam rests a hand on his knee, squeezing it a little. “Now have another cookie.”

Steve does, and he hopes to hell Sam is right.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I— What?” Steve blinks, staring down at Lucas in confusion.
> 
> “Doggy!” Lucas says again, louder this time, pointing at something to their right. “And Bucky, hi!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is brought to you by me watching the entirety of full house season 2 in two days.

“Play?”

“That’s right, buddy.” Steve nods, sitting Lucas down on his bed. “We’re going to the playground.”

“Yay!” Lucas yells, raising his arms above his head.

Steve takes advantage of Lucas’s position to slip a shirt over his head, arranging his arms through the sleeves. He can’t help but smile when Lucas’s head pops out, his bangs falling in his face. He looks almost as displeased as he was when Steve was applying sunscreen to his skin, all furrowed brows and lips in a pout.

“No yay,” Lucas says, tugging at his collar.

“You gotta wear clothes when you’re outside,” Steve explains. “It’s the rules.”

Lucas pouts, and then looks up at Steve. “Socks?”

“Socks too.”

Lucas wrinkles his nose. “Yuck.”

Steve snorts out a laugh, swiping Lucas’s hair away from his face. “No jacket, though. It’s still warm outside.”

“Good,” Lucas huffs, crossing his little arms over his chest. Or at least trying to. It ends up looking more like he’s hugging himself than anything else.

It doesn’t take Steve long to get Lucas in the rest of his clothes. Steve’s had enough practice by now to know exactly how to move to keep Lucas from throwing his shoes away or tugging off his shirt, and how to distract him from how much he dislikes wearing pants and socks.

“Now your hair,” Steve says, turning around to grab the comb from his nightstand.

“Daddy’s too,” Lucas tells him, hands finding their way to Steve’s head and messing his hair up.

“Okay.”

Lucas leans in and touches their noses together, before pulling back and grasping at strands of his hair. “Go.”

Steve combs Lucas’s hair, making sure his bangs aren’t getting in the way of his eyes. Then he hands Lucas the comb and turns on his back. “Now me.”

He feels the comb teeth sharp against his skull as Lucas combs his hair, but he does his best to stay still until Lucas says he’s done.

“Thank you, Lucas,” Steve says, placing a kiss to his forehead.

Lucas touches the top of Steve’s head. “Pretty.”

Steve picks him up and stands, nuzzling Lucas’s cheek. “You’re pretty.”

“Yup.” Lucas nods, clapping his hands together.

“Ready for the park?” Steve asks him, bouncing him a little.

“Play!” Lucas says again, arms up.

Steve grabs his bag with snacks, first aid kit, and a change of clothes for Lucas if needed, and then they’re off. It’s the beginning of September, the weather still warm as they walk to the park. Lucas points at things on the way that catch his attention, from people to trees to signs, babbling as he goes.

The few times Steve can make sense of what he’s saying is when he yells out, “Doggy!” and pats at Steve’s forearm to be put down. Steve does only for the dogs and owners that look friendly and like they won’t mind a toddler getting up close and personal for some petting time.

“Let’s hope for no more interruptions until we get to the park, huh?” Steve glances down at Lucas as he resumes walking after stopping so Lucas could hug a Beagle.

Lucas shrugs. “Don’t know.”

Steve snorts.

Figures.

The playground isn’t too crowded for a Saturday morning, only a few other parents with their kids around. Steve watches as Lucas plays, helping him on the slide and pushing him on the swings when Lucas asks him to.

It’s when they’re out and about like this that Steve sees the difference in Lucas since the beginning of the yoga classes. When Lucas used to be shy and quiet around other kids, most of the time isolating himself from others, he’s now quick to interact with other kids and play with them. He’s also better at staying on his feet while he runs around or tries to climb something, something Steve is eternally grateful for. It’s never fun watching your child fall.

And all of that leads Steve’s thoughts to right to the guy who’s helped with it all: Bucky.

 _Big surprise_ right there.

Bucky is always on Steve’s mind, but since the conversation with Sam a week ago Steve can’t seem to _stop_ thinking about him. He still hasn’t made a decision on asking Bucky out on a date, but the idea doesn’t scare him as much as it did anymore.

It kind of makes his stomach flip, if he’s being honest.

And in a good way.

But then again, all thoughts about Bucky usually make Steve feel something good. Sometimes really good. Sometimes so good Steve has to take a long shower to take care of it.

And _those_ are thoughts Steve absolutelyshould _not_ be having in a playground full of toddlers, while his son is playing in the sandbox with two other kids. So Steve focus on watching Lucas play instead of thinking dirty thoughts about Bucky, wondering what kinds of new things Lucas will pick up this afternoon.

Because the thing about Lucas interacting with other children is that he learns things from them. Usually they’re positive like learning new words, new games, new songs, or how to share his toys, but other times? Well, not so much.

Steve doesn’t it realize it at first. It’s not even because his mind is elsewhere, but just because it doesn’t seem suspicious to him at all. He just sees one of the little boys Lucas is playing with with the palm of his hand pressed against his mouth. Lucas is staring at him and frowning, holding a handful of sand in front him.

It happens in slow motion. That’s the only way Steve can explain how fast he is able to move when Lucas lowers his head closer to his own hand and sticks his tongue out.

“Lucas, _no_.” Steve suddenly finds himself kneeling in front of his son instead of sitting on a bench a few feet away, scooping him up and away from the sandbox. “Dirt is _bad_. We do not eat dirt. Especially not from the sandbox.”

Lucas blinks up at him, blue eyes wide and confused. “Dirt bad?”

“Yes, dirt bad,” Steve tells him, looking from Lucas and down to the little boy Steve now notices has grains of sand all over his chin and around his mouth.

About two seconds later Steve hears a woman groan, “Scott, not _again_."

Steve can't help the way he grimaces at that, leaving the woman and her son in favor of getting Lucas as far away from the dirty sandbox as possible.

"Let's go wash your hands, okay?"

"But play," Lucas says, staring longingly at the playground.

"How about we have snack time instead, huh?”

Steve’s suggestion goes about as well as he thought it would, with Lucas turning to him and asking, “Cookies?”

“And juice.”

“And cookies?” Lucas asks again.

Steve sighs, but does it while smiling. “Yes, and cookies.”

“Uncle Sam cookies?”

Steve shakes his head. “Store cookies. Is that alright?”

Lucas’s shoulders slump, but then he pats Steve’s cheek and says, “Yeah, okay.”

Steve winces at the feel of sand against his face. “It’s cleanup time, c’mon.”

With the promise of cookies and juice, Lucas doesn’t protest having to wash his hands. He even tells Steve to hurry, scrubbing his hands under the water against Steve’s to help. Lucas also picks a place for them to settle down to eat, under the tallest tree he can find, plopping down on Steve’s lap as soon as Steve is sitting down, their things on the ground in front of them.

“Cookies,” he demands, tugging at Steve’s shirt.

“In a minute,” Steve tells him, running his hand through Lucas’s hair. “Want to help me with the bag?”

Lucas nods, gripping at the bag straps in front of them and pulling it to him. Steve helps, of course, pressing his chin to the top of Lucas’s head as they get the bag open. Soon they have the snacks out, with Lucas grinning around a mouthful of cookie and a juice box balanced on top of their now closed bag.

“You good, buddy?”

Lucas doesn’t answer, just leans back against Steve’s chest and takes another bite of his cookie, cheeks puffing out. Steve huffs out a laugh and fishes his phone out of pocket, opening the camera app and taking a picture. He texts it so Sam with the caption _you haven’t ruined him for cookies yet_ before stealing one of the cookies for himself.

Or trying to, at least.

He gets as far as taking the cookie out of the bag before he feels Lucas’s hand on his wrist.

“Stop,” Lucas says, and then points at the cookie. “Share.”

“Oh?” Steve raises an eyebrow, amused. “I have to share?”

“Yes,” Lucas tells him, nodding.

“But you’re not sharing.”

Lucas blinks, glancing down at his cookie with a frown. He seems to decide something, because then he’s taking a bite of the cookie and offering the other half to Steve.

“Share.”

Steve bends down and eats the cookie, pretending to chew at Lucas’s fingers. Lucas laughs and takes his hand back, holding it close to his chest.

“No, Daddy. Hand _bad_.”

“Eating your hand is bad?”

“Yes. Stop.”

“Okay, I’ll stop,” Steve promises. “What about kisses? Are kisses good?”

Lucas shrugs, and Steve doesn’t waste any time before he’s peppering kisses all over Lucas’s face head. He smiles when Lucas bursts out laughing again, but stops when Lucas smacks him in the eye when trying to get away.

“Okay,” Steve says, eyes watering a little. “How about we finish the cookies and juice and then go take a walk?”

“Share?”

“Yes, I’ll share the cookies with you. Will you share them with me?”

“And Bucky and doggy!

“I— What?” Steve blinks, staring down at Lucas in confusion.

“Doggy!” Lucas says again, louder this time, pointing at something to their right. “And Bucky, hi!”

Steve turns around at the same time Bucky looks up, and Steve knows he must be gaping like an idiot, but he can’t _help it_. Bucky lights up as soon as he catches sight of Steve and Lucas, face breaking into a grin and eyes impossibly bright. He’s wearing black running pants and a tight long-sleeved grey shirt that does fucking _wonders_ to his chest and shoulders, his hair tied in a bun at the back of his head. He’s wearing gloves, and he tightens his grip on the leash he’s holding when his dog perks up and starts barking when Lucas calls out Bucky’s name again.

“Bucky!” Lucas yells, waving this time.

“Hi, guys,” Bucky says when he gets closer, giving Steve a tentative look as if asking if it’s safe to approach. “Fancy seein’ you here.”

“I didn’t know you had a dog,” Steve blurts out, snaking an arm around Lucas’s waist.

“I don’t, not really.” Bucky smiles sheepishly. “He’s Clint’s, actually. Natasha’s boyfriend? I’m just doing him a favor and walking this guy around.”

“This is Lucky?” Steve asks, lips twitching when Lucky turns to him at the sound of his name. Steve’s heard about him from Natasha, but they’re usually complaints about how much pizza he eats.

“The one and only.” Bucky nods, and when he notices Lucas trying to free himself from Steve’s hold on him, he adds, “He’s really friendly and good around kids, I promise.”

Lucky proves that by coming up to Steve and licking the side of his face before sitting down by Bucky’s side and looking the picture of innocence.

“Right.” Steve rolls his eyes, and then looks at Lucas. “Just be careful, alright, buddy? Don’t hug him too hard.”

Lucas huffs and stands up, stopping right in front of Lucky. “Hi, nice doggy.”

“You can sit down,” Steve tells Bucky once Lucas is giving Lucky belly rubs. “If you want to.”

“You don’t mind?” Bucky asks. “I don’t want to get in the way of some father-son bonding time.”

Steve shakes his head at him. “No, you’re not getting in the way of anything. You’re more than welcome to stay with us for a while, if we’re not keeping you from anything.”

“No place I gotta be, pal.” Bucky sits down beside Steve, so close Steve can feel the warmth of Bucky’s body against his side.

“That’s good,” Steve says quietly, ears flushing when Bucky glances at him, surprised. “I mean, bumping into you was good. Lucas misses you.”

Bucky pointedly looks at Lucas giving Lucky ears scratches. “I don’t think he does. Just put a dog in the mix and it’s like I don’t exist.”

“Aw, that’s not true.”

“I didn’t even get a hug hello from Lucas,” Bucky says, deliberately loud. He also sniffs a bit, ducking his head, all mock-sadness.

Steve presses his lips together not to say anything when Lucas glances up at Bucky, looking worried.

“No, Bucky.” Lucas walks up to him, putting his hands on the sides of Bucky’s head. “Be happy.”

“Okay,” Bucky says, lifting his head. “But will you give me a hug?”

Lucas throws his arms around Bucky’s neck, hugging him tight without hesitation. And that’s what gets to Steve, more than the smile Bucky gives Steve over Lucas’s shoulder, soft and warm and in that way that always makes Steve’s heart beat a little bit faster.

Steve knows Bucky is good with kids, has seen proof of that during the classes they shared, so it shouldn’t make his stomach flip whenever he sees Bucky interacting with Lucas. But it does, maybe because it still catches Steve off guard just how _at ease_ Lucas is around Bucky, in a way that he’s only really with people who have been around him his entire life.

Lucas is not that only one who feels comfortable and safe around Bucky. Steve has no complaints about having Bucky near his kid, playing with him and joking with him and accepting hugs and Lucas’s fascination with his metal arm. And Steve knows he can be a little overprotective at times, especially when it comes to Lucas, so it says a lot about who Bucky is as a person and how much Steve likes him that he’s open to letting Bucky spend time with his son.

He guesses Bucky is just that wonderful.

He guesses he just likes Bucky that much.

He also guesses that if Sam was here, he’d be giving Steve one of his _looks_. Complete with eyebrow waggles and a smirk.

“Kiss too,” Lucas says, grabbing Bucky’s face between his hands, smooshing his cheeks together, and kissing the tip of his nose. “All good now?”

“Yeah, bud.” Bucky laughs, bopping Lucas’s nose. “I’m all good now.”

Lucas stares at him for a few seconds, considering, and then drops his hands from Bucky’s face. “No,” he says, turning to Steve and going for the cookies. He grabs one and takes a bite, offering the other half to Bucky, the same way he did with Steve moments before. “Share.”

“For me?” Bucky asks, eyes wide.

“You don’t have to eat it,” Steve says quietly. “Not after he already took a bite.”

“Eat,” Lucas says, waving the cookie in front of Bucky’s face.

“Oh, I’m eating it,” Bucky says, taking the cookie. “‘S not every day a toddler picks me to share a cookie with. It’s an important moment, Stevie. I’m not lettin’ it pass me by.”

See? _Wonderful_.

“We have juice, too,” Steve tells him. “In case you wanna make a toast.”

“I might,” Bucky says. “If Lucas wants to share his juice with me?”

“No,” Lucas answers, grabbing his juicebox and going back to playing with Lucky.

Steve snickers at the fallen look on Bucky’s face, making sure Lucas is entertained before grabbing another juicebox from the bag.

“Here. Don’t look so sad.”

“Gee, thanks.” Bucky takes the drink, but first popping the cookie into his mouth and chewing. “This is good.”

“I got them at Priscilla’s,” Steve tells him. “Lucas doesn’t like them as much as he likes his Uncle Sam’s baking, but he’ll eat them.”

“He has his favorites, huh?”

Steve presses his knee against Bucky’s. “You should know.”

Bucky ducks his head, but Steve can still see the little pleased smile on his lips. He also feels Bucky’s knee press harder against his, neither of them moving away from the contact.

They talk as Lucas plays with Lucky in front of them, about anything and everything that comes to mind, learning new things about each other along the way. Keeping up a flow of conversation with Bucky is never hard work, and the silences they have between them are never awkward.

It’s a bit different, though, being around Bucky when he’s not a work. Bucky shows Steve another side of himself, one where he seems more relaxed, more free with his smiles and jokes and laughs. Steve wonders if this is what Bucky is like outside of the studio, when he’s hanging out with friends, and hopes that he’s right.

Steve wants Bucky to feel as good as he does when Bucky is around him.

And he thinks Bucky does.

You know, if judging by the little smiles Bucky gives him whenever he’s talks and the light flush to Bucky’s cheeks whenever Steve touches him. And there’s also the way he keeps _looking_ at Steve, both intense and awed all at once.

Although, if Steve’s being honest, he thinks he pretty much looks the same way at Bucky.

“Daddy.” Lucas comes up to him, Lucky following behind. Steve only has time to open his arms before Lucas is flopping down on top of him, like his strings have been cut. “Tired.”

Steve huffs, sliding a hand up and down Lucas’s back. “Well, that’s new. We usually have to run around for a few hours until this happens.”

“It’s the dog,” Bucky says, scratching under Lucky’s chin. “It’s guaranteed to tire kids out.”

“Maybe I should look into getting one, then.”

“He could play with Lucky,” Bucky replies, not looking at Steve. “God knows this guy needs a little exercise.”

“Yes,” Lucas mumbles, rubbing his cheek against Steve’s shoulder. “Nice doggy.”

“I guess I could ask Natasha if Clint is up for it,” Steve says slowly, resting his cheek on the top of Lucas’s head.

“Or me,” Bucky offers. “I end up walking him around at least once a week, anyways. You could call me whenever you and Lucas are free, maybe? We could meet here again. Or somewhere else, whatever’s easiest for you guys.”

Steve opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, not really knowing what to say. He can’t really tell if Bucky is just being nice or if he’s trying to—

Well.

If he’s trying to ask Steve _out_.

Steve would go with the latter, considering the way Bucky’s been acting since he saw them and sat down beside Steve on the ground. But now? Bucky’s tone is calm and his expression smooth, giving Steve zero indication on what Bucky’s intentions are.

And it doesn’t really surprise Steve that he _hopes_ Bucky means to ask him on a date.

He’s known Bucky for three months now, since the first yoga class in the beginning of June. Three months in which Steve has spent a really long time thinking about Bucky, analyzing his feelings, bottling things up, and then having a heart-to-heart with Sam that lead him to eat almost his entire weight in baked goods.

So maybe it’s time for him to face the facts, now that Bucky is actually in front of him and possibly — or possibly not — trying to asking him out.

Steve likes Bucky. A lot.

And while Steve didn’t want to do anything about it while he and Lucas were taking Bucky’s classes, there’s nothing stopping him from doing something about it _now_. His hesitation about dating someone and then finding out they have a problem with him being a parent also doesn’t apply here, obviously. His biggest concern is bringing someone to his and Lucas’s life who is not good for them or doesn’t stick around, but he’s come to known Bucky and what a great guy he is. And it’s been over a month since Itsy Bitsy Yoga ended and they still see Bucky every week, and now here is Bucky offering to spend _more_ time with them, not less.

As he watches Bucky staring at him, grey-blue eyes shining bright in the morning sun, bottom lip caught between his teeth as the seconds tick by and Steve doesn’t answer, it seems as if all the reasons Steve came up with to not give this a try float away. And yeah, he knows he might be proved wrong about Bucky and all of this, but right now he thinks he has a lot more to lose if he _doesn’t_ do something.

And Steve was never one to live in fear. Surrounded by doubts and trying to push his feelings down, sure. But not fear.

So he lets himself smile a little and says, “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asks, pink mouth forming a smile to match Steve’s own.

“Yes.” Steve nods, and then adds, “And maybe you could let me take you out later.”

Steve enjoys the way Bucky’s eyes widen at that, mouth parting a little. “Take me out?”

“On a date,” Steve explains, so there are no misunderstandings between them.

And it’s worth it, from the way Bucky’s smile turns into a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners, as he says, “I’d like that.”

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky thinks the universe is trying to tell him something.

That’s the only explanation he can come up with when he bumps into Steve and Lucas at the park while he’s walking Lucky, Clint off somewhere with Natasha doing fuck knows what. It’s either that or he’s being set up, and Bucky doesn’t think Natasha is capable of doing something like this _and_ using a little kid for her matchmaking purposes.

Or that’s what he hopes.

Bucky has to admit Nat and Clint have been good about keeping their mouths shut on the subject of Bucky’s huge crush on Steve and on whether or not Bucky should ask him out. They’ve left him to stew on his own thoughts for an entire week, not doing more than giving him _looks_ and smirking at him whenever Steve’s name came up during a conversation.

So Bucky’s had some time to think about what to do. Not that it did him any good.

That’s why he thinks the universe is trying to tell him something when he hears Lucas’s voice calling his name and finds him and Steve sitting by a tree, Lucas smiling big and bright at him while Steve stares in surprise.

That thing being: _Bucky Barnes, buddy, ask this this dude out_.

The universe sounds suspiciously like Clint, but Bucky’s choosing to ignore that. And as he and Steve talk and laugh and eat cookies and drink juice, he thinks maybe the universe — and Clint and Natasha — are right.

All of his arguments about _not_ doing anything are surprisingly easy to smash the more he thinks about the conversation he had with Nat and Clint, which means they weren’t really that strong in the first place. Natasha telling him Steve isn’t seeing anyone and that he won’t be offended if Bucky asks him out tell Bucky that Steve is single and that he’s not as straight as Bucky once thought. Sure, Bucky still doesn’t know what the situation with Lucas’s mom is, only that she and Steve are not together. Which, to be totally honest, is something Bucky kind of figured out when Steve never mentioned her in the first place.

The one thing Bucky can’t shake is the thought that maybe Steve won’t agree to date him because he doesn’t think Bucky would be good for Lucas. Bucky likes to think that he’s a good person, but he knows his background might make some people wary and others downright afraid. It’s not the case with Steve, as far as Bucky knows, but still. It makes Bucky hesitate. Steve doesn’t seem to have a problem with him, but it doesn’t mean he won’t have a problem with Bucky being that close to Lucas or spending more time with him.

And this is when the universe tries to tell Bucky something else. Something that sounds a lot like, _Bucky Barnes, buddy, stop being an idiot_.

It happens when Steve lets go of Lucas so his son can proceed to give Lucky as many belly rubs as he can and says, “You can sit down. If you want to.”

“You don’t mind?” Bucky asks. He thinks he can keep the shock out of his tone. Steve has no idea that by uttering those eight words he’s just shattered Bucky’s last argument with himself. “I don’t want to get in the way of some father-son bonding time.”

Steve shakes his head at him. “No, you’re not getting in the way of anything. You’re more than welcome to stay with us for a while, if we’re not keeping you from anything.”

And there Steve goes again, turning Bucky’s world upside down without even knowing it.

Bucky probably should get used to it, if he plans on dating Steve. Which he thinks he does. Or at least he wants to. _A lot_. So much so he thinks he’s going to take Natasha and Clint’s advice and ask him out.

Or maybe Bucky will just suggest something that means they’ll spend more time together — the three of them, with maybe Lucky tagging along — and see how Steve reacts to that. So there’s no doubt left on Bucky’s mind. If Steve doesn’t seem to think it’s a good idea, then Bucky will know his chances of taking Steve out will be slim. But if he ends up not sounding opposed to it, then Bucky will _definitely_ make a move.

And sure, Steve could still say no, but Bucky hopes he won’t. And if he does, at least Bucky won’t be left wondering _what if_ for the rest of his life _and_ he’ll get the opportunity to finally win a paintball match against Natasha.

Bucky’s resolve only strengthens as he sits down beside Steve, their sides almost touching, and as they talk while Lucas plays with Lucky. They’ve known each other long enough that conversation flows easily between them, with Bucky catching Steve up on the going-ons of the studio and what movies he’s seen lately and Steve telling Bucky about his work at Stark Industries and all the new things Lucas has picked up and learned now that he’s more social with other kids his age.

That doesn’t mean Bucky knows how to bring up his idea of them spending more time around each other. At least not without sounding kind of creepy. Not that he needs to think too hard, when Lucas leaves Lucky in favor of walking up to his dad and all but collapsing in Steve’s arms. It’s like a lightbulb turns on right over Bucky’s head, illuminating his thoughts and giving him _the best idea ever_. It’s such a good idea that Bucky doesn’t waste any time scratching under Lucky’s chin, behind his ears, and petting him as much as he wants.

“He could play with Lucky,” Bucky says to Steve, decidedly not looking at him. While this _is_ a precursor to him asking Steve on a date, he doesn’t need to be staring at Steve’s face as he does it. Especially if Steve shuts him down. He doesn’t want to see that kind of expression on Steve’s face, even more so if it’s directed at _him_. “God knows this guy needs a little exercise.”

“I guess I could ask Natasha if Clint is up for it.”

And yeah, okay. Maybe Bucky needs to give a little more explanation other than just _offering_ Lucky like that. Because of course Steve would think of talking to Clint. You know, since the dog _isn’t Bucky’s_.

“Or me,” Bucky offers, heart speeding up in his chest. “I end up walking him around at least once a week, anyways. You could call me whenever you and Lucas are free, maybe? We could meet here again. Or somewhere else, whatever’s easiest for you guys.”

And there it is. It’s out now. There’s nothing Bucky can do to take that back. Unless he tries to backpedal and find a way to take the offer back, but that means he’ll end up rambling and probably making more of an ass of himself.

It’s done.

Only Steve isn’t answering. He’s completely silent, actually. If they weren’t sitting so close together, Bucky would think he was not even breathing.

He can’t stand _not_ looking at Steve when Steve isn’t _saying_ anything, so he chances a glance up, bottom lip caught between his teeth so he won’t end up blurting out anything else and making things worse. But then it’s like the breath is knocked out of his lungs, his heart tripping over itself in his chest, because Steve is staring _back_ at him, his eyes so bright and intense Bucky forgets himself for a moment.

He almost misses it when Steve talks, would have not heard anything if he wasn’t so focused on the lines of Steve’s face. But as it is, he watches Steve’s lips form a small smile, soft and genuine.

“I’d like that.”

Bucky is helpless to do anything but smile back. He knows this doesn’t really mean anything, other than the fact that he’ll actually be asking Steve out soon. But Steve’s acceptance still leaves him giddy. It means more time with Steve and Lucas, and Bucky will never not be happy about being around two of his favorite people in the world.

And Bucky is pretty sure he’s on cloud nine at this point. Nothing can get better than this. Well, he could already be dating Steve, but he’ll get there. If Steve wants him to and agrees to date him, that is.

And this is when the universe tries to tell him yet _another thing_. Only it doesn’t sound like Clint’s voice at all. It comes right from _Steve_.

“And maybe you could let me take you out later.”

Bucky knows he must look like an idiot, staring at Steve all wide-eyed and gaping. “Take me out?”

But this is just— Bucky isn’t ready for this.

Well, he _is_ ready for it, but he didn’t think it’d happen this soon. He didn’t think _Steve_ would be the one to ask him—

“On a date.”

Bucky keeps himself from making a little sound in the back of his throat, but barely. After weeks— No, scratch that. After _months_ of wondering if he should make a move and then after countless hours of him trying to talk himself _into_ making a move, here’s Steve. Doing it for him.

And, well.

Bucky’s not going to leave him hanging.

So he grins and says, “I’d like that.”

“That’s good,” Steve answers, grin matching Bucky’s.

Bucky lets out a laugh, bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “You’ve no idea, Stevie.”

“Oh?”

Bucky shrugs one shoulder, lowering his hand. “I had this whole plan, y’see.”

He might as well come clean now. He knows that if things progress between him and Steve, Natasha and Clint will take the first chance they get to spill all about Buck's embarrassing crush.

“To ask me out?” Steve asks, looking equal parts baffled and flattered.

“Don’t look so surprised.” Bucky frowns, knocking their elbows together. “You’re a catch.”

Steve blinks at him and then glances down. Lucas is still cuddled against his chest, one hand on Steve’s shoulder and the other gripping at his shirt. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are closed in sleep, mouth parted as he takes deep even breaths.

“Not many people think that,” Steve mumbles, running a hand through Lucas’s hair.

“If people think he’s a problem,” Bucky says, resting his fingers lightly on the back of Lucas’s arm, “then people are stupid. He’s a great kid and you’re a great dad to him. There’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Thanks, Bucky.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Just tellin’ it like it is.”

“Thanks anyway.” Steve brushes a kiss to the top of Lucas’s head. “I should be getting him home.”

Bucky feels a flash of disappointment at that. He doesn’t want to part ways, but Lucas is already asleep and he knows Steve is right. He helps Steve gather his things into his bag so he doesn’t have to jostle Lucas too much and risk waking him, Lucky walking around them.

“Can I walk you two home?” Bucky asks, handing Steve his bag and then attaching Lucky’s leash again.

“You don’t have to.”

Bucky gives Steve a pointed look. “I know. Can I do it anyway?”

“Sure,” Steve says, lips curling up. “As long as you carry my bag for me.”

Bucky makes a show of taking Steve’s bag back with his metal hand and throwing the strap over his shoulder, never once looking away from him. “After you,” Bucky says, taking a bow.

He can tell Steve is trying hard not to laugh, so he lets himself grin at him, wide and bright. Steve nods and smiles back, securing his hold on Lucas, and then they’re off, Lucky walking ahead of them.

“So.” Steve turns to him as they leave the park. “Tell me about your plan.”

Bucky groans, feeling the blood rushing to his cheeks. “You don’t wanna hear about that.”

“Oh, but I really do,” Steve teases. “C’mon, Bucky. Tell me.”

Bucky huffs, glancing at Steve. “You gotta promise you won’t laugh.”

“‘Course not,” Steve assures him. “Cross my heart.”

Bucky takes a deep breath before telling Steve of his plan, which was not really a plan at all. He mentions not thinking it was a good idea to say anything while Steve and Lucas were his students, and then how basically his strategy was to wait and see if Steve minded him hanging around. Bucky is fortunate that Steve just looks amused as he listens and doesn’t seem to find Bucky as pathetic as Bucky finds himself as he goes on talking.

“You’ve wanted to ask me out since you were teaching us,” Steve says after Bucky’s done, an expression on his face Bucky can’t read.

Bucky nods. “Yes. Even more so after we started talking, but I knew it was unprofessional as hell.”

“I’m glad you waited,” Steve answers, letting their shoulders brush together.

“Shouldn’t be thanking me, Steve. You’re the one who ended up asking _me_ , after all.”

Steve snorts. “Right, but even so. I would’ve said no, if you’d asked me back then. I wasn’t ready. So I’m glad you— _We_ waited.”

“Wait ‘til we go out to see if you’re still happy about all of this, okay?”

Not that Bucky doubts he will be, because he’ll make damn sure Steve has the time of his life on their date.

Steve seems to think along the same lines, because he smirks and says, “I know I will be.”

“You’ve got too much faith in me, Steve.”

Steve shakes his head, smirk turning into a kind smile. “Got just enough, Buck.”

Bucky swallows, not knowing what to say to that. So he focuses on the street in front of them, tugging at Lucky’s leash whenever he gets too close to other people, content in being close to Steve and seeing him and Lucas safe to their home.

“This is us.” Steve stops in front of a brownstone, turning to Bucky. “Thanks for walking us.”

“My pleasure,” Bucky tells him, because it was.

Lucas chooses that moment to wake up, blinking bleary eyes and yawning. “Play?”

“We’re at home, buddy,” Steve tells him, looking down at Lucas. “But we can play after lunch.”

Lucas frowns. “Home?”

“Yup.”

Looks glances at their house and then around them, frown disappearing when he sees Bucky. “Bucky!”

“Hey, there.” Bucky grins, like he always does.

“Hi! Where’s doggy?”

Bucky looks over his shoulder to Lucky, who’s currently sitting behind Bucky’s legs, sniffing at his pants. Bucky takes a step to the side. “He’s right here, pal,” he says. “But I gotta get him home soon.”

“Bye bye first,” Lucas informs him, squirming until Steve puts him down.

Lucas goes straight for the dog instead of Bucky, much to Bucky’s amusement, carefully wrapping his arms around Lucky in a hug. As he says his goodbyes, Bucky gives Steve his bag back, fighting the urge to shiver when their Steve’s fingers brush against his hand.

“Thanks for carrying it.”

“Stop thankin’ me,” Bucky tells him, waving a hand. “And you had much more precious cargo in your hands.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes out, eyes finding Lucas.

“Now Bucky,” Lucas says, tugging at Bucky’s pants.

Bucky laughs, kneeling down and hugging Lucas. “There you go,” he says, squeezing him tight.

Lucas lets go of him and goes to Steve, palm wrapping around two of Steve’s fingers.

“I’ll see you two soon.” Bucky gives Steve a meaningful look. “At the studio and then next Saturday, right? Around the same time as today? I’ll bring Lucky.”

“Right,” Steve confirms. “And then we’ll do something. Just us.”

“It’s a date,” Bucky says with smile.

“Looking forward to it,” Steve replies, and then surprises Bucky by taking a step forward.

The hug is quick, giving Bucky barely any time for him to feel the press of Steve’s arms around him, but it still makes warmth rush through his body. It also doesn’t help that in those two or three seconds Bucky is able to _smell_ Steve, making him wish he could just bury his face against the side of Steve’s neck and never let him go.

But as it is, Bucky lets Steve step back. He also makes note of the light blush covering Steve’s cheeks when he lets go.

“Oh, wait,” Bucky says before he leaves, fishing a hand into his pocket and grabbing his phone. “Can I have your number before I go? I guess could get it from your file, but…”

“Unprofessional as hell considering what you want it for?” Steve offers.

“Got it in one.”

Steve takes the phone from Bucky, punching in his number before giving it back. “Text me later so I know it’s you.”

“I will,” Bucky promises. “See ya, Steve. Bye bye, Lucas.”

Both Steve and Lucas wave at him, Bucky watching as they get inside their house.

“So that went _a lot_ better than planned,” Bucky comments out loud, grinning when Lucky barks. “Yeah, pal, thanks for the help. I’ll share a pizza with you if you don’t tell Clint and Nat anything about it, how’s that?”

Lucky barks again, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“Glad we’re agreed.” Bucky nods. “Gotta do something first, though.”

He looks down at his phone, opening the contacts app and finding Steve’s number.

 

_you’re not the only one who’s happy about this - b_

 

A second later, Bucky’s phone beeps with a new message.

 

**Steve [11:12 AM]**

_I know. Lucas is jumping up and down about seeing you more than once a week. :D_

 

Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes to himself. He puts away his phone and starts walking, Lucky by his side.

He smiles the entire way back home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Go make yourself look pretty. I promise not to teach Lucas any more swear words while you’re away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first date: part one :D

The next Saturday morning at the park with Bucky and Clint’s dog is a success, not that Steve thought otherwise.

Lucas is practically vibrating with excitement when he sees Bucky waiting for them in front of their house. Steve has to grab him by the back of his shirt to keep him from running to the gate, pressing his lips together not to laugh when Lucas glares back at him, betrayal written all over his face.

The one notable difference is the awareness Steve and Bucky now have of each other as they walk and talk and play with Lucas. There are knowing smiles and smirks, flushed cheeks and quick glances, light touches and _closeness_.

Steve loses count of how many times he feels Bucky’s hand on the small of his back, touching his arm, brushing against the back of his hand. He knows he’s just as bad, finding any and all excuse to put his hands on Bucky.

It makes Steve dizzy with anticipation for their date that night, which is why he finds himself freaking out a bit once he and Lucas have said their goodbyes and are home.

Sam takes one look at his face when he arrives for babysitting duties and promptly says, “Oh, boy.”

Steve just gives him a helpless look and a shrug, letting Sam inside and closing the door behind him.

“Alright, hit me,” Sam says once he’s done saying hello to Lucas and showering him with kisses and hugs.

“I’m kind of freaking out,” Steve tells him, dropping heavily on his armchair. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You’re the one who asked him on a date,” Sam points out, raising an eyebrow.

Steve makes a face at him, and then runs a hand over his hair. “I know. It seemed like the easiest thing to do at the time.”

And it had been, with Bucky so close to him and staring at him with those gorgeous eyes of him. But now that Steve is faced with actually having to go out with Bucky? Not so much. And it’s not because he doesn’t want to, because he really really does. It’s just that he’s not sure he even knows how to _do_ this anymore, go out and date people.

“It’s not that different from having dinner with me every week,” Sam says, and that’s when Steve realizes he’s been saying everything out loud. “Only I’m a lot cooler than this Bucky person and I don’t want to get into your pants when we’re done.”

“That’s not helpful,” Steve huffs, picking up one of Lucas’s dozen toys off the floor and throwing it at Sam.

Sam grabs the toy before it hits him, giving Steve an unimpressed look. “Really, man, you got nothing to worry about. Everything will be fine. And from what you’ve told me, this guy likes you as much as you like him. He’s probably freaking out about this, too.”

Steve has to admit that makes him feel a little better. “What do you think, bud?” Steve asks Lucas, who looks up from his building blocks. “About Daddy going on a date with Bucky?”

Lucas’s answer to hearing Bucky’s name is pretty much the same as it always is, by which Steve means Lucas beams and yells, ”Bucky!” before going back to what he was doing.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, ignoring the sounds of Sam snickering.

“See?” Sam pokes him on the side. “Even your kid knows how much you like him. And going by his reaction, he thinks this Bucky is a good person. I trust his judgement. Little guy’s suspicious as hell.”

“He’s doing better,” Steve argues. “He almost ate dirt at the park last week because the kid he was playing with was doing it too.”

Sam open and closes his mouth a couple of times. “I don’t think that’s a good parameter for comparison.”

“Dirt bad.” Lucas shakes his head. “Not good.”

“That’s right.” Steve offers his head for a high-five, smiling when Lucas slaps his hand.

Sam shakes his head at him. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Steve shrugs one shoulder. “Just tell me I’m doing a good job.”

“Needing some validation, huh?” Sam’s expression is kind. “Alright. You’re doing good, Steve. Teaching your kid not to eat dirt and have him listen is a battle won.”

Steve laughs a little, kicking a foot out and catching Sam in the shin. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“‘S ‘cause I’m the best damn babysitter you know. Teenagers got nothing on me.”

“Damn!” Lucas repeats before Steve can open his mouth, startling both him and Sam.

Steve blinks owlishly at Lucas, and then slowly turns to Sam. Sam, for his credit, looks about as sorry as one can get, but Steve can still see the hint of humor in his eyes.

“I’ll fix it.”

“There’s no _fix_ ,” Steve argues. “Once he learns something, he can’t _unlearn it_.”

“I’ll teach him not to repeat it, then.”

“Damn!” Lucas says again as he destroys one of his tower blocks. “Damn, damn, damn!”

The glare Steve directs at Sam could kill someone on the spot. But Sam’s immune to it after knowing Steve for years, so Steve has to content himself with maintaining the eye contact until Sam lowers his gaze.

It takes Steve and Sam about ten minutes to teach Lucas that ‘damn’ is a not a word he can say whenever he likes, especially when he’s not a home. Steve’s not sure how much Lucas is able to understand, but he figures he’ll hear about it from Jean at the daycare if something happens.

He takes a look at the old clock on his bookshelf and swallows down a curse. “I have to get ready.”

“Yup,” Sam tells him. “Go make yourself look pretty. I promise not to teach Lucas any more swear words while you’re away.”

“You better.” Steve narrows his eyes at him. “You don’t want me to call your mom to complain.”

Sam clutches at his chest. “You wouldn’t.”

“‘S been awhile since I spoke to her,” Steve replies with a smile. “It’s time to catch up.”

“You know, people take one look at you and think you’re this wholesome, great and kind person, but you’re really not. You’ve got an evil side.”

“Those things aren’t mutually exclusive,” Steve throws over his shoulder as he walks to his room. “And keep an eye on the blocks! Lucas likes to chew on them.”

“I got it!”

Since Steve had an entire week to worry about what to wear on his date with Bucky, he doesn’t add to his anxiety by having no idea what kind of clothes to pick. He’s already asked Maria for her help, something that was all kinds of awkward and surprisingly painless.

But that must be because she barely looked up from her work and said, “Dark jeans and that blue button down Natasha bought you for Christmas.”

So Steve already has his clothes laid out on his bed, and all he needs to do is put them on and make sure his hair doesn’t look too weird. And then he’s good to go. To pick up Bucky. So they can go on a date. Together.

Sam whistles when Steve goes back to the living room, going as far as giving him a thumbs up. “Looking good, Cap.”

“Shut up,” Steve mumbles, flushing slightly.

“Doesn’t your Dad look pretty, Lucas?”

“Yeah,” Lucas says slowly. “You too.”

“Thanks, little man.” Sam grins, ruffling Lucas’s hair.

Steve crouches down in front of Lucas, resting a hand on the back of his son’s neck. “Daddy will be gone for a few hours, okay? Will you be good for Uncle Sam?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“C’mon, kiss goodbye.”

Lucas abandons his blocks and puts his hands on either side of Steve’s face, pressing their noses together for a second before smacking a wet kiss to Steve’s cheek. Steve, for this turn, places a kiss on Lucas’s forehead, taking a deep breath before stepping back and getting up.

“Call me if you need anything,” Steve tells Sam. “And if you can’t reach me, call Maria. She’ll find me.”

“I know.” Sam rolls his eyes. “I’ve babysat for you before. _And_ I used to be a pararescue. I know what to do in case of emergencies.”

“ _Call me_ ,” Steve repeats, more forceful this time.

“Ay, ay, Cap.” Sam salutes.

Steve glances at Lucas to make sure he’s not paying attention before flipping Sam off.

“Nice,” Sam deadpans. “Very nice, Steve.”

“I’ll be home soon.”

“Hopefully not,” Sam replies, shrugging when Steve gapes at him. “What? I want things to go well for you. And great dates don’t end at reasonable hours.”

“Oh my god,” Steve groans faintly, grabbing his phone, keys, and jacket. “Just— Oh my god.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Steve makes an annoyed sound in the back of his throat and doesn’t answer, saying goodbye to Lucas again before heading out. He zips up his jacket and hops on his motorcycle, hoping Bucky won’t mind his means of transportation. If he does, Steve figures they can get a cab or walk to the little diner Steve plans on taking them.

The drive to Bucky’s apartment isn’t a long one and it serves to calm Steve down a little. On the way, his mind runs through Sam’s words and what they obviously allude to, making his stomach flip. As much as he appreciates Sam wanting that for him, he knows he’s going to take things with Bucky as slow as possible. Not only because he’s out of practice with the whole, you know, _having sex with another person thing_ — he and his hand have been doing just fine —, but because he wants to make sure they’re doing things right.

Steve doesn’t want what he has with Bucky to be just about sex and what they can do to get each other off. Sure, he wants to sleep with Bucky at some point, if Bucky agrees, but he wants this entire thing they have between them to mean something more than that.

He parks outside of Bucky’s building, taking off his helmet and running his fingers through his hair, trying to flatten the strands down. He does the best he can without a mirror in front of him, getting off the bike and walking to Bucky’s door.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, trying to will away his anxiety, and rings the doorbell.

A few seconds later he hears Bucky’s voice. “ _Yeah?_ ”

“It’s me,” Steve says, and then adds, just in case, “Steve.”

“ _Oh! I’ll be right down, okay?_ ”

“Bring a jacket,” Steve rushes before Bucky can disconnect.

There are a few beats of silence before Bucky answers, “ _Yeah, okay. Give me five minutes_.”

Steve sticks his hands in his pockets, turning back and leaning against his motorcycle. He can feel sweat gathering at the palms of his hands despite the cool weather, a sure sign that he’s not as collected as he wants to be. But he figures it’s good, this anticipation. It means that this matters. It means that this is important.

It means—

“Steve.”

Steve’s head snaps up, his heart tugging in his chest. Bucky is making his way to him, arms held loosely at his sides, lips curled up in a smile. He’s dressed much like Steve is, in jeans and a white button down under a black leather jacket. His clothes do nothing to hide the powerful shift of muscles as he walks, the fabrics stretching tight across his chest and thighs. His hair is down, the strands framing his face.

Like always, Bucky is the most gorgeous person Steve thinks he’s ever seen.

Which is possibly why Steve blurts out, “I want to draw you.”

Bucky freezes in place about three steps away from Steve, eyes going round in surprise. “I— What?”

“Sorry.” Steve winces. “I shouldn’t— Sorry.”

Bucky blinks, tilting his head to the side. “You want to draw me,” he says slowly, eyes impossibly bright under the street lights.

Steve nods, helpless. “Not if it makes you uncomfortable. Not if you don’t want— I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to to come out and say it like that.”

Bucky licks his lips. “Well,” he pauses, considering. “Guess I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, a tiny flicker of hope in his tone.

“ _If_ ,” Bucky adds, “you go on another date with me. After this one. Next week.”

Steve stares at him, and then starts smiling, slowly. “I have to say, Bucky, that’s kinda what I was hoping for.”

“Yeah?” is Bucky’s turn to ask, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yes.”

“Good,” Bucky says quietly. “We can talk about it later, then.”

“Sure can.”

Bucky takes those remaining steps closer to Steve, leaning into his personal space. “So, Stevie, where are you takin’ me?”

 

* * *

 

“You’re freaking out.”

Bucky glares at Clint, and then throws one of his shirt at Clint’s head for good measure. “I’m not,” he says. “I am cool and collected. I am a sniper. My insides are made of ice.”

Natasha stares at him, unblinking. “You cried watching _Inside Out_ with us last week.”

“So did you,” Bucky says, narrowing his eyes at her.

Natasha presses her lips together, not saying anything.

“You’re freaking out,” Clint repeats.

“I’m _not_.”

“You changed shirts four times,” Clint says, counting on his fingers. “You spent twenty minutes fixing your hair only to decide it looked better before and had to wash it again. You asked me if your socks had to _match your underwear_.”

“It’s a legitimate question.” Bucky frowns, but he can feel himself blushing.

“James.” Natasha places a hand on his arm, squeezing it. “Everything is going to be fine.”

Bucky huffs. “You don’t know that.”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“Yes,” Bucky says flatly. “When we met.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and flicks him in the nose. “Have I ever lied to you after all of that?”

“No,” Bucky answers reluctantly.

“So believe me when I say you and Steve are going to be fine.”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t ask him out,” Clint comments. “After all that work trying to convince you to do it, and he beats you to it.”

“I didn’t mind,” Bucky mutters, smiling a little at the memory.

“I bet.” Clint snorts.

Bucky throws another shirt at him, which Clint quickly catches and then throws on top of his bed.

“Do I really look okay?” Bucky asks, looking down at himself.

“I’d fuck you,” Clint tells him, shrugging when Bucky rolls his eyes at him.

“I would, too,” Natasha says, smirking when Clint gapes at her and Bucky grins. “You look hot. I can appreciate that.”

“Thank you, Nat.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Bucky still takes one last look in the mirror, though, just to make sure. He figures this is as good as he’s going to look, which is definitely a vast improvement from Steve seeing him in yoga pants and ratty t-shirts and sweating while he exercises or walks Lucky around the park. Not that Steve doesn’t seem to appreciate like _those_ looks on Bucky, but still. Bucky wants to make an effort.

He is aware that he cleans up okay, even with the long hair and stubble and the scars covering his body. He wants to look good for Steve, wants to cause a good impression, wants to make Steve like and want him enough for them to go on a second date. And a third and a fourth and fifth and countless other dates after those.

“You really look good, James,” Natasha tells him, coming up behind him, resting her chin on Bucky’s shoulder, and staring at his reflection in the mirror. “Steve will like it.”

“He sure will,” Clint says, wrapping his arms around them both and resting his hands on Bucky’s stomach, effectively making a Natasha sandwich. “In the right light, we can see your nipples through your shirt.”

“Fuck off, Barton,” Bucky says without any heat, slipping free. When he glances back at them Natasha is leaning against Clint’s chest, his arms around her waist, both of them smiling. “You two are the worst.”

“You love us,” Clint sniffs, propping his chin on top of Nat’s head. “You can’t live without us.”

Bucky is about to open his mouth to deny that when the doorbell rings, sending his heart into overdrive.

“Oh, shit.”

“Steve’s here!” Clint sing-songs, making a dash for the living room.

Years of training and the sheer horror of thinking Clint might talk to Steve make it possible for Bucky to outrun him, bumping into Clint from one side and sending him crashing into Bucky’s couch.

“Aw, unfair.”

“Shut the fuck up or I swear to fuck I’ll melt all of your arrows, Clinton.”

Clint gasps, looking all kinds of horrified. “You wouldn’t.”

“Then shut your trap.”

Talking to Steve takes all of one minute, during which Bucky desperately tries to ignore the butterflies in his stomach with little to no success. He picks up his jacket from the back of the couch, shrugs it on, and then turns to Natasha and Clint.

“Please don’t be here when I come back.”

“Don’t worry,” Natasha reassures him. “We won’t be.”

“Okay.” Bucky nods, rolling his shoulders. “Okay. I’ll see you later?”

“You’ll see us when you see us,” Natasha says. “But I’ll be expecting a call tomorrow.”

“You got it.”

Bucky hesitates, and then takes four quick steps to Natasha, pulling her in for a hug. She’s caught off guard, but is quick to hug him back anyways. Clint is already standing with his arms open when Bucky turns to him, patting Bucky on the back when Bucky hugs him.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Clint says, stepping back.

“That doesn’t cover much.”

Clint just winks.

Bucky shakes his head, waving at them one final time before leaving. He clenches and unclenches his left hand as he makes his way down, the plates on his arm whirling. His nervousness fades once he catches sight of Steve, only to be replaced by something entirely different.

To say Steve looks amazing is an understatement, all hard muscled and tight clothes and hair shining under the low lights. Bucky is so dazed and caught up in the sheer beauty of Steve that he completely misses what Steve is leaning against as they talk.

That is, until he asks Steve where they're going and Steve bumps a helmet against his chest and says, “Hop on and you’ll find out.”

Bucky is a little ashamed of himself, both for being so unaware of his surroundings to the point of missing the _huge black motorcycle_ rightin front of him — he’s a _sniper_ , for fuck’s sake, he should be doing better than this — and also for pretty much choking on his tongue as soon as he does see it.

“You have a _bike_?” Bucky asks, voice a little faint.

“Uh,” Steve hesitates, expression turning uncertain. “Yeah, but I don’t really get much of a chance to take it out for a ride now that I have Lucas. I thought it’d be fun. I can leave it here if you have a problem with it. We could get a cab.”

“Don’t you _dare_ , Steve Rogers,” Bucky says, grabbing the helmet. “I don’t have a problem with this _at all_. This is a thing of fuckin’ beauty, Jesus.”

“You think so?” Steve asks, grinning when Bucky nods. “Thanks.”

Bucky laughs a little at the look on Steve’s face. He looks so incredibly pleased with himself he’s downright smug, and that expression doesn’t help Bucky fight the urge to lean in and kiss him. Not that Bucky does.

As much as he wants to take Steve’s hand and say ‘fuck it’ to this date and take him upstairs to his bedroom, he’s determined to do things right. That involves going on this date with Steve and having a meal while they talk over things and hope Steve walks him to his door so they can kiss goodnight.

Bucky hopes Steve is on board with taking things slow. He doesn’t think he’ll have to do much convincing, or even that he’ll have to argue about it at all. They have more than just themselves to consider, and as much as Bucky has come to love Lucas during this past three months, all three of them have to make sure they’re a good fit.

There are no doubts in Bucky’s mind that Steve is considering that. He’s a great dad to Lucas, and Bucky knows in the bottom of his heart that Steve only wants the best for his little guy. And so does Bucky.

“Do we have a reservation?” Bucky asks, zipping up his jacket. “Wherever it is we’re going?”

“Not really.” Steve frowns. “Why?”

“How ‘bout you take me for a ride first?”

It takes Bucky about five seconds to realize what he’s just said. Five seconds in which he watches, almost as if in slow-motion, Steve’s cheeks turn pink and his eyes darken.

“Uh, Bucky…,” Steve starts, lips twitching as if he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Bucky is feeling pretty much the same way, right about now.

“Shuddup,” Bucky groans, covering his face with a hand. “That’s not what I meant.”

“‘S okay if you did,” Steve says, trying to sound casual and failing miserably at it. “I was just gonna say you might wanna save that for later.”

“Like tonight later or a vague number of dates later?” Bucky asks, watching Steve through his fingers.

“A vague number of dates later,” Steve explains. “I was gonna wait to talk to you about this, but…”

“But then this happened.” Bucky uncovers his face, shoulders slumping. “Sorry for making things awkward.”

Steve huffs, grabbing Bucky’s hand that’s not holding the helmet. “Things aren’t awkward. A bit embarrassing, maybe, but not awkward.”

“Like that’s any better,” Bucky mumbles, but still feels a rush of warmth when Steve doesn’t let go of his hand.

“I like you,” Steve says simply, thumb rubbing circles over the back of Bucky’s hand. “But I want to take things slow. I have more than just myself to think about.”

“I get that.” Bucky nods, squeezing Steve’s hand. “And I’m good with slow. We can go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with.”

“Same goes for you,” Steve tells him. “And if you think I’m still going too fast or not respecting your boundaries, talk to me.”

“Back at ya, Stevie.” Bucky takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I don’t wanna fuck this up.”

“Me neither,” Steve murmurs.

Bucky glances up at him from under his lashes, letting himself lean in and rest their foreheads together. “Things got surprisingly heavy for a first date.”

“And we haven’t even gone anywhere yet,” Steve comments, breath ghosting over Bucky’s lips.

Bucky laughs, low and happy, and pulls back. “But really, can we ride around for a little while first? It’s been years since I’ve been on a motorcycle.”

“Yeah, Bucky.” Steve lets go of Bucky’s hand and swings a leg over the bike. “Get on.”

Bucky flashes him a smile, putting on his helmet and climbing behind Steve. His stomach flips at having their bodies so close together, Steve’s strong back against his chest, Steve’s hips cradled between his thighs.

It only gets worse — or a thousand times better — when Steve reaches behind him and grabs Bucky’s hands, bringing Bucky’s arms around his waist. Bucky gets the hint and holds on tight, his hands resting low of Steve’s stomach, feeling the muscles shift under his palms.

Steve traces his fingers over Bucky’s knuckles, quietly asking him if he’s okay. Bucky answers by tightening his grip and pressing even closer to Steve. After that, they’re off.

Being on a motorcycle is as fun as Bucky remembers it, the ride around the busy streets of the city only made better because Bucky is with Steve. The warmth of Steve’s body helps against the chill breeze, but at one point Bucky’s can’t help but unclench his right hand from around Steve’s stomach and slide it into Steve’s jacket pocket.

Steve’s shoulders and back shake as he laughs, and Bucky knows he’s sporting a silly grin of his own under the helmet. Bucky pats Steve’s stomach with his metal hand, his silent way of saying he’s having fun, that this is good, that he likes what they’re doing.

Steve speeds up, but not before letting go of one of the handles and placing his hand over Bucky’s, squeezing his fingers. And that’s his silent way of saying _me too_.

Bucky keeps grinning to himself. This is already one of the best dates he’s ever been on.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fuck, we gotta do that again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first date: part two :DD

“Fuck, we gotta do that again.”

Bucky knows he must look like an idiot, hair sticking out in every direction, cheeks flushed, the biggest grin on his face. But he can’t _help it_. Motorcycles are _fun_.

“So I take it bringing the bike was a success,” Steve says, laughing a little.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Bucky hands Steve back his helmet, watching in appreciation as Steve swings off the back in one fluid movement, his jeans stretching incredibly tight across his thighs and ass. Bucky says a prayer in his head, thanking whoever thought he deserved to see a view like this.

“Buck?”

Bucky blinks, eyes snapping from Steve’s ass back to his face. His face heats up at knowing he was caught looking, but he forces his embarrassment down. Steve, at least, doesn’t look offended. He’s smirking a little, his ears pink, arms crossed over his chest.

“You better bring the bike to all of our dates,” Bucky tells him, poking one of Steve’s huge biceps. “You hear me?”

Steve raises his eyebrows, eyes glinting. “Should I be jealous?”

“Absolutely.” Bucky nods. “I have half a mind to steal her and leave you here.”

Steve snorts, uncrossing his arms and snaking one around Bucky’s waist. He pulls Bucky in, so close their chests touch.

“No, you don’t,” Steve murmurs.

“Yeah, I don’t.” Bucky swallows and finds himself relaxing into Steve’s arms.

He’s noticed he does that a lot; lets his guard down around Steve. He holds himself tense a lot of the time, ready for the possibility of an attack at any second. It’s one of the reasons yoga helps so much: it calms him down and grounds him, gives him the opportunity to make himself let go.

Bucky is not as closed up as he used to be after he was discharged, but that still doesn’t mean he’s all easy smiles and relaxed posture. At least not around people who he hasn’t been friends with for years. Clint and Natasha and a few other handful of people are usually the only ones who witness this side of Bucky.

And now there’s Steve.

Maybe it’s because it seems like they’ve known each other for years — fuck, their whole lives — that makes Bucky feel so comfortable around him. It’s sure as fuck the reason why Bucky can’t seem to keep a blank face whenever Steve’s near, either ending up smiling like an idiot or with his face red like he’s fourteen again and just got his first kiss.

There’s no denying Bucky likes it, though, feeling this way.

Especially when Steve smiles, wide and bright.

He also kisses Bucky’s cheek, light and quick, before stepping back. He still keeps his arm around Bucky’s waist, hand resting on Bucky’s hip. “You ready for our date?”

“Thought we were already on it,” Bucky says, leaning against Steve’s side.

It’s not everyone who doesn’t put Bucky on edge, so he doesn’t get as much affection as he craves.

He’s always been a touchy-feely kind of guy, with an arm thrown over someone’s shoulders, pulling people into hugs, sitting close together to his friends. All of that changed after losing his arm, when he couldn’t bare other people seeing him, let alone being close enough to touch. It took Bucky a long time and a lot of effort during his recovery to come to a point where he could deal with touch as means of affection, of someone showing him they care and worry about him. But it’s still difficult to let anyone close who’s not either Clint or Natasha or one of the little kids who take his classes.

Steve, once again, seems to be one of the few exceptions. And Bucky is going to enjoy this as much as he can.

“Ready for the _planned_ part of our date?” Steve corrects himself, shaking his head at Bucky.

“If this is the part where you feed me, then yes.”

“I hope you like diner food,” Steve answers, his hand moving from Bucky’s hip to the small of his back. “Fancy restaurants aren’t really my thing.”

“Any place I have to wear a suit and tie to be served isn’t my thing either.” Bucky shrugs. “And I lived on MREs for years. I can eat pretty much anything.”

“Well, that sure makes me feel better.”

“Diner food sounds great, Steve,” Bucky tells him. “Really.”

Steve flashes him a quick smile. “Let’s go, then.”

Steve takes them to a small, hole-in-the-wall type of place, with a few tables and stools at the bar. There’s a good number of people inside, not enough to make it hard for Steve and Bucky to be heard if they want to talk, but enough to not make them feel like the entire staff is listening to their conversation. As it is, one of the waitresses still grins big and waves when Steve brings Bucky inside, her eyes widening a little when she catches sight of Bucky.

“What was that?” Bucky asks, amused, as Steve leads them to an empty table.

“Nothing,” Steve mumbles, nose pink.

Bucky watches the waitress from the corner of his eye. She glances at them one more time before entering the kitchen, coming back about ten seconds later with an older woman following behind. The waitress tilts her head to their table, mouth working fast as she talks. Whatever it is she says makes the old lady smile.

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” Bucky looks back at Steve, who looks like he doesn’t know whether to dig a hole on the ground and lie in it or brace himself and take whatever it is that’s coming for him. “Should I be worried?”

Steve opens his mouth to answer, but he doesn’t get a chance to say actually anything.

“Well, look who we have here.”

Bucky glances up to find the old lady — _Debbie_ , her apron says — standing by their table. She has a huge smile on her face, brown eyes twinkling as she looks from Bucky to Steve and back again.

“Hi, Mrs. Olson,” Steve says, clearing his throat.

Debbie scoffs, pointing a finger at Steve. “Don’t start with me, boy. It’s Debbie, or Aunt Debbie, to you. Has been since you were born and was ‘til last Wednesday morning when you brought your little one with you. Just ‘cause you’re here on a date doesn’t mean you need to get all fancy with me.”

Bucky thanks all of his years of hard training and being friends with Clint for his ability to not burst out laughing that exact moment. Steve all but melts into his seat, shoulders slumped and face as red as Bucky’s ever seen it.

“Sorry, Aunt Debbie,” Steve says, and then frowns. “How do you know I’m on a date?”

“It’s alright, dear,” Debbie answers, all smiles again. “I’m sure your young man doesn’t mind.”

“Not at all, ma’am,” Bucky drawls, offering Debbie a hand and one of his best smiles. “James Barnes, pleasure to meet you.”

Debbie laughs, delighted, and shakes Bucky’s hand. “You sure are a charmer, James.”

“So my Ma likes to tell me.”

“And I’m sure our Steve here agrees,” Debbie winks.

Bucky turns to Steve, who is trying to glare at him but is failing miserably when his lips twitch up. “‘S what I’m hoping for, ma’am.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Steve cuts in, still frowning. “Maybe Bucky’s just a friend.”

Bucky can’t help the way his lips turn down at that. He’s very much _not_ just a friend to Steve, at least not anymore. Steve catches the look on his face and knocks his foot against Bucky’s under the table, silently apologizing.

Debbie actually _rolls her eyes_ at Steve, clicking her tongue. “The last person you brought here with you who had you looking all googly-eyed like that who wasn’t named _Lucas_ and _your son_ was that Peggy Carter girl when you were sixteen.” Debbie turns to Bucky, eyes sad. “Steve was head over heels in love with her and was devastated when she went back to London. He didn’t come back here for three months. Said the memories were too painful.”

“Googly-eyed?” Bucky mouths, snickering despite himself.

“Oh my god, kill me now,” Steve groans, burying his face in his hands.

“You were always so dramatic,” Debbie tells him, patting Steve’s back. “But that’s how I know this is a date. You only bring the important ones to the family diner.”

Bucky blinks, stomach swooping. “What?” he asks weakly.

Debbie laughs again, shaking her head at them. “You two enjoy your date. I’ll send Cindy with your food in a bit.”

Bucky blinks again, voice not as steady as he’d like when he says, “We didn’t even look at the menu yet.”

Debbie pats him on the shoulder. “Trust your Aunt Debbie. I’ll take care of it.”

Bucky doesn’t bother looking her way as she leaves them, his entire focus on Steve. Steve is leaning back against his seat, hands still covering his face but doing a crap job at hiding his embarrassment. Bucky takes a second to let his mind wonder if Steve is one of those people who blushes all over, but then shakes himself out of those thoughts.

“Stevie?” Bucky asks tentatively, going as far as reaching out a hand and wrapping his fingers lightly around Steve’s wrist.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky,” is what comes rushing out of Steve as he drops his hands on the table, expression tight. “Fuck, this was such a bad idea.”

“I— What?”

“We can leave. Go some place else. Whatever you want,” Steve says, tugging at his hair with one hand. The other is still on the table, Bucky’s hand around Steve’s wrist.

“What? No, I don’t wanna leave,” Bucky tells him, tightening his grip, feeling the rapid beat of Steve’s pulse under his fingers. “Why do you think I’d wanna do that?”

Steve shrugs, looking all kind of miserable. “Aunt Debbie wasn’t supposed to say anything. Bringing you here wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. I just thought you’d like the place.”

“I do like it,” Bucky says quietly, thumb now rubbing circles on the soft skin of Steve’s wrist. “And we don’t have to make it a big deal of it if we don’t want to, no matter what other people say.” Steve doesn’t say anything to that, so Bucky adds, “Even if it kind of is.”

Steve glances up at him, expression serious and set. “It is,” he admits, licking his lips. “You know when you’ve been away for a while? From all the things that you know and recognize and think of as home?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, mind going back to the unforgiving sun, the miles and miles of sand in front of him, the dust and ruins and blood. “I do.”

“But then sometimes, when you come back, things feel different? Like home isn’t home anymore? Like it can’t be?”

Bucky swallows around a lump in his throat, nodding.

“This place never felt like that,” Steve says with a humorless smile. “It was always just home to me.”

Bucky lets out a breath like it’s been punched out of him, heart clenching as the weight of what Steve’s just said settles over him. This is Steve’s safest place. This four walls and big windows and light blue tables. Aunt Debbie and the smell of french fries and waitresses who smile and wave at him when he arrives.

“And you wanted to share that with me?” Bucky asks, voice cracking.

“I knew you’d understand,” is all Steve offers as an answers, but it’s more than enough.

“Steve,” Bucky says, bringing Steve’s hand up to his lips, brushing a light kiss over his knuckles. “Thank you.”

Steve’s expression softens at that, thumb pressing against Bucky’s bottom lip for just a moment. “You’re welcome.”

Bucky lets go of Steve’s hand, but only because Steve traps Bucky’s legs between his when Bucky stretches them. Bucky grins, heavy mood lightening.

“So,” Bucky starts, raising an eyebrow. “What’s this about this place being the family diner?”

 

* * *

 

Steve huffs out a laugh, suddenly feeling about a dozen pounds lighter. He thought for sure Bucky would want to leave after listening to what Aunt Debbie had to say, thinking that being in this place with Steve for their first date would mean too much.

“It’s not really,” Steve tells him. “Aunt Debbie is not really my aunt.”

Bucky’s eyes widen. “Why do I have a feeling you shouldn’t let her hear you say that?”

“Probably because she’d kick my ass.” Steve snorts. “She and my Ma knew each other their whole lives. Best friends since they were kids. Aunt Debbie took me in after Ma passed, let me work a few shifts after school so I could feel like I was helping out. ‘S why this place is more like home to me than anywhere else. I spent a lot of time washing dishes and hanging around when I had nothing better to do.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Bucky says. “And I’m sorry about your mom.”

“It was a long time ago.” Steve shrugs, because it was. He still misses her like hell sometimes, wishes she was around to see him being a dad, to be a grandmother to Lucas, to tell Steve he’s not fucking things up. “And what about your family?”

During all of their conversations, Bucky’s never really mentioned them. Steve is vaguely aware they don’t live in the city and that Bucky is not an only child, but aside from that he doesn’t know much.

“They’re all back in Indiana,” Bucky answers, smiling a little. “My parents and three sisters. They moved back there after I joined up, said they wanted to be close to family who _really_ appreciated them.”

“Buck—,” Steve starts, frowning.

“Nah, it’s fine.” Bucky waves a hand. “We already got all of that sorted out after I came back, minus an arm. There were lots of tears and hugs and my sister Becca promising to do my laundry and wash my dishes for me for the rest of my life if I wanted her to.”

“You didn’t take her up on it, did you?”

Bucky just grins at him, waggling his eyebrows.

“You never really talked about them before,” Steve says hesitantly, still frowning.

Bucky shrugs one shoulder. “We’re not as close as we used to be, you know, before everything. But I still go to visit them whenever I can, and my sisters have the bad habit of just showin’ up uninvited whenever the hell they want.”

“I wish I had siblings,” Steve comments, only to have Bucky snort.

“That’s what every only child says. I bet you’d be eating your words the first time one of them peed on your clothes or put gum on your hair.”

Steve stares at him, baffled. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Good, because your food is here,” Cindy says, bringing their plates. “I’ll be back with your drinks in a sec.”

“Thanks, Cindy,” Steve says.

“We didn’t order drinks,” Bucky comments, looking all kinds of amused.

At least he’s not about to die of embarrassment like Steve will.

“Debbie says you’re both having Coke,” Cindy informs him, as if daring Bucky to argue.

Bucky doesn’t. Steve thinks that must be because he’s friends with Natasha, has been for years, as far as Steve can tell. He’s probably learned when to keep quiet, instead looking back down at his plate, licking his lips appreciatively at the burgers and fries.

Steve thinks he dies a little inside at the hungry look on Bucky’s face, and does _not_ think about Bucky staring at him like that — like Bucky’s about to eat him up.

“Sorry about this,” Steve sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Oh, I don’t mind. Now I’m just wondering if you two are also going to pick our dessert.”

“Apple pie,” Cindy says when she’s back with their drinks, “with a scoop of ice cream.”

Bucky turns to Steve. “Isn’t that your favorite?”

Steve’s face heats up. It just keeps getting better and better. “Thank you, Cindy,” Steve says loudly. “We’ll call you if we need anything else.”

Cindy winks at him.

“This, right here?" Bucky tilts his head in Cindy's direction. "It’s kind of what having siblings is like.”

“You mean people constantly trying to embarrass you?”

“Yup.”

“Still, could be nice.” Steve grabs the bottle of ketchup, squeezing some of it over his fries. “I wish I could give Lucas a little brother or sister.”

“You, uh, you could always adopt?”

Steve looks up at the awkwardness of Bucky’s tone, wincing internally when he realizes what he’s just said. Talking about wanting kids is _not_ first date material. Nevermind that Steve already has one child of his own.

“I… I guess.” Steve shakes his head, and then laughs a little. “Things took a weird turn, huh?”

“Little bit,” Bucky agrees. “Do you mind if I make it weirder?”

“Uh, sure. Go ahead.”

“You can tell me to fuck off if you think I’m crossing a line or if you just don’t want to answer, but…,” Bucky pauses, untangling his legs from Steve’s under the table. Steve’s stomach drops a little, but he figures Bucky wants some distance for whatever it is he means to ask. “You never talk about Lucas’s mom. Is she— Are you— Did she—?”

Bucky can’t seem to find the right words to ask what he wants to know, but Steve gets it anyway. Those are the kinds of questions he usually gets: Who is she? Is she in the picture? Are you still in love with her? Did she _die_?

So he’s quick to shake his head and say, “Oh, no. No, no, no. She’s— It’s— Well,” Steve stops, scrunches up his nose. “I was going to say it’s complicated, but that’s not really true.”

“It’s just the answer you give when you don’t wanna talk about it?”

“Kinda, yeah,” Steve admits. “But I do want to talk about it with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I do,” Steve tells him, because he does. “And it’s only fair, with you being my date and all. If we… If we want to take things forward, I think it’s good for you to know.”

“Doesn’t have to be now, though,” Bucky says, almost as if he’s trying to talk Steve out of answering his question.

“Her name’s Sophia. We weren’t together anymore when she found out she was pregnant,” Steve says, lips twitching up when Bucky raises his eyebrows at him.

“That must have been a shock.”

Steve snorts. “Understatement of the decade.”

“And she’s…?”

“She’s an engineer working for a big company in the West Coast,” Steve tells him. “Sophia didn’t really want to have kids, but she also didn’t think—,” Steve stops, takes a deep breath. “She didn’t think terminating the pregnancy was something she could go through. Not that going through with the pregnancy wasn’t hard on her, because it was, but she said it was the best option for her.”

Steve remembers those months, the blind fear, the constant worry, the endless calls to Sam after he locked himself in the bathroom after having another panic attack. He remembers being fucking terrified of what decision Sophia might make, but also knowing he didn’t have the right to ask her to have his child for him. Not if she didn’t want to. Even if every piece of _him_ wanted her to.

“She told me she didn’t regret it, after Lucas was born.” That might have been after seeing Steve holding their son for the first time, tears in his eyes, completely enamored. Steve doesn’t care what it was, he’s just eternally grateful for it, for her. “Now I have full custody and she visits two, three times a year. Takes whole week or weekend to come spend time with Lucas.”

“Did she come this year?”

Steve nods. “For Lucas’s birthday in May. She’s actually the one who convinced me to sign up for the yoga summer program after I told her Natasha mentioned it to me.”

Steve smiles when Bucky chokes on a fry at that, pushing Bucky’s glass closer to him so he can take a zip.

“You don’t say,” Bucky answers, voice cracking.

“It’s true.”

“Well, remind me to thank her next time she’s here.”

“God, no.” Steve grimaces. “She’s already going to be smug enough about this as it is when I tell her. There’s no need to add us being _thankful_ to that.”

Bucky laughs, a low sound that send shivers up Steve’s spine. “Natasha’s gonna be about the same. We can’t run from _her_ , though.”

“She’d find us.”

“Clint would help.”

“So would Maria.” Steve sighs.

“Maybe them being smug isn’t so bad,” Bucky says, stealing one of Steve’s fries and taking a bite. “I mean, this is goin’ pretty well, isn’t it? Us. Being here together.”

“Yes,” Steve says, heart singing as he watches Bucky. “It is.”

Bucky smiles at him, ketchup staining his bottom lip. “Guess we can take being made fun of, then.”

“Guess so.” Steve doesn’t stop from reaching out and swiping his thumb over Bucky’s lip, and then sucking the digit into his mouth. “Sorry,” he says while Bucky stares at him, eyes dark. “You had some ketchup on you.”

“‘S okay,” Bucky says, licking his lips, as if chasing the taste of Steve. “Feel free to do that any time.”

“Noted.”

Bucky winks at Steve, picking up his burger for the first time and taking a bite. Steve almost dies on the spot at the sound of pleasure Bucky makes when he gets the first taste of it, Bucky’s eyes fluttering shut as he chews.

“Fuck me,” Bucky whispers, staring down at the burger like he’s just found his new god. Steve has to stuff his mouth with food not to reply, _gladly_. “This thing is fuckin’ incredible.”

Steve just nods, cheeks round with food, feeling too hot under his collar.

“We’re coming back here for another date,” Bucky says, pointing a finger at Steve. “Not the next one, but maybe a few ones after that.”

Steve takes a sip of his drink to wash down his food. “You planning that far ahead, Barnes?”

“I’m an optimist.” Bucky lifts his left arm, wiggling his fingers at Steve. “See, when I joined the army I never thought I’d lose an arm.”

It’s Steve’s turn to choke on something, eyes watering as he coughs. “That was awful. Don’t ever say anything like that again.”

Bucky throws his head back and laughs, entire body shaking with it. “I’ll keep my lame jokes to myself.”

“Please do.”

Their date only gets better after that, with them moving on to lighter subjects and teasing each other throughout the meal. Steve finds Bucky as wonderful and as delightful as he thought Bucky would be on their date, quick to make Steve laugh with one of his stories and always asking questions.

Bucky also doesn’t seem to mind when both Cindy _and_ Debbie stop by to check on them as the night progresses. He laughs and teases them just as much as they tease him and Steve, pressing his leg against Steve’s under the table whenever Steve groans or tells them to leave them alone.

Steve is not the least bit surprised when Debbie stops them before they’re about to leave, giving Bucky a tight hug and saying, “You take care of him, you hear me? Even when he insists everything is just fine.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky promises, winking at Steve when Steve huffs.

“And you,” Debbie rounds on Steve, cupping his face between her hands. She leans in close, voice barely a whisper, “Good choice. That boy’s a keeper.”

“This is just our first date,” Steve argues, voice just as low.

Debbie pats his cheek, clicking her tongue. “You’ve always paid attention to my advice, don’t stop now.”

Steve wants to argue that sometimes her advice got him into more trouble than it was worth, but he just replies, “Yes, ma’am.”

Bucky is waiting for him outside, leaning against his bike, hands in his pockets. He’s smiling, hair tickling his jaw, expression open and soft.

“Hey, there,” Bucky says. “Do you come here often?”

Steve snorts, butterflies in his stomach. “Want to take another ride?”

“Oh, yes, please,” Bucky says, almost jumping in place.

This time around it seems better, having Bucky behind him on the bike. They’re more sure of where they stand, a little more relaxed around each other. Not to say it isn’t sweet torture to have Bucky pressed against his back, Bucky’s thighs around his hips, because it _is_. But it serves to leave them both calm and as a good way to end their night.

Just the two of them, on Steve’s motorcycle, riding around the city.

That’s not to say Steve is ready for the night to end.

Not just yet.

Not before he gets to do something he’s been wanting to since he first laid eyes on Bucky.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” Steve says once they’re parked in front of Bucky’s building, offering a hand to Bucky.

“I’m a decorated officer, you know,” is all Bucky says, sliding his hand into Steve’s and entwining their fingers.

“So am I,” Steve answers, squeezing Bucky’s hand. “But my Ma also raised me right. If I take someone out, I gotta make sure they get home okay.”

“You have that one covered, I think,” Bucky says, stopping right in front of his door.

Steve hums low in his throat, leaning into Bucky’s space. “Just one thing I’m missing.”

Bucky tastes of apples and vanilla ice cream when Steve kisses him, lips soft and sweet under Steve’s own. He also makes the best little sounds when Steve pulls him closer, one hand around Bucky’s waist and the other one in his hair, their bodies pressed so close together Steve can feel Bucky’s heartbeat against his chest.

Steve doesn’t know how long they stand there, kissing.

He doesn’t care.

He lets himself get lost in it, in the taste of Bucky’s mouth, the shape of Bucky’s body against his own, Bucky’s scent of leather and shampoo and cologne. He only stops when he starts feeling lightheaded, slowing down their kisses into they’re nothing but chaste brushes of lips.

Bucky looks all kinds of dazed when Steve pulls back, eyes half-lidded and mouth pink and shiny. Steve doesn’t doubt he looks about the same, but maybe with an added flush to his cheeks. They both smile, though, so wide it could split their faces in half.

“Hi,” Bucky says, breathless.

“Hi,” Steve answers and _does not_ giggle, not matter what anyone says.

Bucky closes the distance between them again, pecking Steve lightly on the lips. “Bye.”

Steve laughs, his hand slipping from Bucky’s hair to cup his cheek, thumb tracing Bucky’s jaw. “I’ll call you, okay? So we can do this again.”

“Or you can just call me,” Bucky offers, nuzzling into Steve’s palm. “Whenever. Just to talk.”

“That too.” Steve lets go of him, but not before going in for another kiss. “Good night, Bucky. I had a great time.”

“Yeah, me too,” Bucky says, letting his hands trail down Steve’s chest before dropping them by his sides. “Good night, Steve.”

“I’ll wait until you’re inside.”

Bucky rolls his eyes at but keeps smiling, grabbing his keys and unlocking the door. He makes a show of getting inside and then sticking his head out, waving at Steve one final time. Steve shakes his head, hopping on his bike driving away.

If he smiles the entire way home, well, it’s no one’s business but his own.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is that you sayin’ you want me around?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws a 3-month time jump and a lot more fluff at you*

September turns into October, fall coming into full swing. Bucky and Steve also go on another date, this time to one of Bucky’s favorite places in the city.

“You brought me to a bookstore,” Steve says, looking around.

“You brought me to your favorite place,” Bucky huffs. “This is mine.”

It doesn’t look like much, not really. The place isn’t big, with shelves stacked along the walls, bursting with books. There are a few couches and chairs here and there, making cozy sitting areas.

“It’s quiet,” Bucky tells Steve, his voice low. “I appreciated quiet, when I first got back. No one bothered me if I wanted to sit here for hours without speaking, as long as I picked up a book. Or bought their coffee.” Bucky smiles a little. “They make really good coffee.”

“Let’s go buy some, then.” Steve smiles at him, grabbing Bucky’s hand and leading him away.

They spend the morning browsing the shelves and taking sips of their drinks, Bucky smiling smugly to himself whenever Steve’s lashes fluttered at the taste of coffee on his tongue. He also might press Steve against a shelf or two when no one is around, his mouth covering Steve’s own, kissing him until they’re both flushed and breathless.

Most of their dates happen like that, as fall turns into winter. Bucky and Steve share bits and pieces of each other through their exploration of the city and what it has to offer. From museums to cafes to parks to bars to tourist spots where they can bring Lucas along, they get to know each other better.

As November ends and December comes, Bucky realizes he’s as happy as he’s ever been. It’s not difficult to come to the conclusion that a lot of it has to do with Steve and Lucas being in his life.

Bucky is not really surprised about that, when being around Steve makes pretty much everything about his day better than it was before. What’s surprising is when other people start noticing, so much so his students start to comment on it.

Or, better yet, comment on his lack of murderous glares and grumpy faces.

“You actually _smile_ at us when we get something right,” Billy says, looking a little awed. “Before you only used to do that to people who were under the age of four and came up to your legs.”

Bucky frowns. “I smiled.”

“Gotta say Billy’s right, boss.” Kate comes up behind him, poking him on the side. “Some of the single parents are even starting to get that glazed and hopeful look on their faces whenever you walk around.”

Bucky’s frown deepens. “I’m with Steve.”

“Oh, that only makes it better,” Kate tells him, grinning. “Two hot guys in yoga pants smiling and playing with a little two-year-old? It’s what dreams are made of.”

“I don’t know why, but that sounds really wrong coming from you.”

“It’s the grin,” Billy pipes up. “Kate always looks creepy when she’s smiling like that.”

“That’s why I like her,” America, Kate’s current girlfriend, says, appearing beside her. “And not that I don’t like spending time with the old man, but we’re gonna be late for Tommy’s party.”

“I’m not an old man,” Bucky protests, scowling when Billy, Kate and America all turn to look at him, eyebrows raised. “It’s not my fault you’re all ten years younger.”

“Thank fuck for that,” America mutters.

“You got it.” Kate nods.

“Just get out of here,” Bucky sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Go ice skating or whatever it is you kids do these days.”

“Get drunk,” Kate offers.

“Have sex,” America pipes up.

“Uh.” Billy blinks. “Watch R-rated movies?”

Bucky shakes his head, biting back a smile. “ _Go_.”

“You sure you don’t want me to help you close up?” Kate asks, taking America’s hand in hers.

“Yeah, Kate, go have fun,” Bucky answers. “I still have to wait for Steve.”

Even though they’ve been dating for about three months, Bucky’s never been to Steve’s house. They see each other every week, from mornings at the park with Lucky before the weather got too cold and Steve and Lucas coming by the studio for their classes. There are also texts and calls pretty much every other day, Bucky’s phone pinging with new messages or photos from Steve, most of them of Lucas doing something cute or falling asleep in a odd position and on the strangest places.

One of Bucky’s favorite pictures — and the background on his phone — is one Natasha took during one of their mornings at the park when they were distracted. Bucky still thinks the entire purpose of her deciding to tag along was to watch how he and Steve were together, but he never called her on it.

The picture is of the three of them together; Bucky, Steve, and Lucas. It’s taken from the back, with Lucas in the middle holding Steve’s hand, his other wrapped around Bucky’s metal fingers. Bucky’s head is turned down and to the side, a few strands of hair slipping from his bun. He’s smiling and staring down at Lucas, who’s looking up at him, mouth opened in the middle of telling Bucky something. Steve, for his turn, is staring at Bucky, his own lips curled up in a soft smile.

Bucky’s heart does a little flip whenever he unlocks his phone and sees the picture, warmth spreading through his body. Natasha also always gives him a knowing look when she catches him staring at his phone for minutes at a time without doing anything, her eyes alight and happy.

But despite all of that, Steve’s never offered an invitation for Bucky to come to his house. Bucky understands Steve wanting to be more sure of them and what they have between them before inviting him into his home. Bucky knows how difficult it can be to let people that close, into a safe space he made for himself, so he doesn’t mind not seeing that part of Steve yet.

And then Steve puts an end to all of that by calling Bucky and inviting him over for dinner. Tonight. And telling Bucky not to worry about getting there, that he and Lucas will pick him up at work. So now Bucky is waiting. For Steve. So he can go to Steve’s _house_.

“Oh, boyfriend is picking you up?” Kate gives him a sly look. “I’m half-tempted to stay here and wait with you.”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Bucky and America say at the same time.

Kate takes a step back. “Okay, okay. See you next week, then?”

Bucky waves them goodbye, and then makes another round of the studio to make sure everything is in its place and locked safely away. He passes the time by playing Solitaire on one of the reception computers, trying to beat Natasha’s score. It’s not long before he hears the front door open and close, the sounds quickly followed by heavy footsteps.

“Bucky?”

Bucky looks up, face breaking into a smile. “If it isn’t my two favorite guys.”

Steve smiles back, holding Lucas up. His cheeks and nose are flushed with cold, making his eyes look impossibly blue.

“Hi,” Lucas says, voice is muffled by the blue scarf around his neck. He waves at Bucky, or at least tries to. The red jacket he has on is so thick it restricts his movements, but it does a wonderful job of making him look like the most adorable ball of fluff Bucky’s ever seen. “Hug?”

Bucky takes him from Steve, laughing at how squishy Lucas feels in his arms. “Are you sure you’re ready for the cold? I think you could use at least another pair of socks.”

Lucas makes a face at that. “Yuck. Socks.”

“I just don’t want him to catch anything,” Steve tells him, adjusting Lucas’s beanie so it doesn’t cover his eyes. “I used to get sick a lot when I was a kid and I remember hating it. I don’t want him to go through that.”

Bucky’s seen pictures of Steve as a child, all skinny limbs and sharp angles, and he doesn’t doubt for one second that the wrong wind could send Steve to the hospital. He thinks Lucas is different, but Bucky’s never spent winter season with them before.

“I get you,” Bucky says, bouncing Lucas in his arms. “We don’t want to get sick, do we, pal?”

“Want food,” Lucas replies. “And cookies.”

Bucky snorts. “Be still, my heart.”

“He has priorities,” Steve says, smiling at them. “And so do I.”

Bucky doesn’t resist when Steve snakes an arm around his waist, pulling him close. He tilts his head up, pressing his lips against Steve’s in a slow and sweet kiss.

“Hey, there, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs against Steve’s lips, stealing another quick kiss.

“Hey,” Steve breathes out, bumping their noses together. “You ready to go?”

“Gotta bundle up, just like our little guy here.” Bucky passes Lucas to Steve, but not before dropping a kiss to the top of Lucas’s head. “Don’t think I’ll look as cute in my jacket as he does, though.”

“What a shame,” Steve sighs, lips twitching.

“Damn right.” Bucky grabs his things, looping his scarf around his neck and sliding his jacket on. He checks one more time to see if everything’s turned off and closed, and then turns to Steve. “What are we having for dinner?”

“Cookies!” Lucas pipes up, clapping his hands.

“As much as we’d all love _that_ , we’re having something else,” Steve says, fidgeting with Lucas’s scarf to make sure it covers him. “And if I end up burning dinner, we’ll have take out.”

“You’re cooking for me?” Bucky asks, surprised. He almost misses gripping the door handle, fingers wrapping oddly around it.

“That’s the plan.“ Steve nods, holding Lucas close as Bucky opens the door and they step outside, the night air cold against their faces. “Unless you think it’s not a good idea.”

“I don’t know.” Bucky looks at Lucas. “Is your Daddy’s food any good?”

“Yup!” Lucas nods with enthusiasm. “Yummy.”

“Can’t argue with that, huh?” Bucky finishes locking everything, walking up to Steve and taking hold of his hand. “Lead the way.”

They’re all a bit frozen at the edges when they get to Steve’s house, Bucky plastering himself to Steve’s back and sliding his hands into Steve’s jacket pocket as he waits for Steve to unlock the door. Lucas peers at him from over Steve’s shoulder, giggling when Bucky makes faces at him.

“Alright, you two,” Steve huffs, eyes soft and fond. “Let’s gets inside.”

Bucky peers curiously around the house as he follows Steve in, taking in his surroundings. Steve’s home is warm and cozy and _lived in_ , looking as tidy as it can be when there’s a two-year-old running around. All his furniture are in warm earthy tones, making Bucky want to curl up on Steve’s couch, grab a book from one of the three shelves filled with books lining his walls, and never leave again.

“Sorry about the mess,” Steve says absent-mindedly, putting Lucas down. Lucas tries to run away, but Steve catches him by the back of his coat and keeps him in place, slowly taking his mittens, beanie, scarf, and coat off.

“I don’t know, Steve,” Bucky drawls, lips twitching up. “This might be a deal breaker. I can’t date anyone whose place isn’t spotless at _all times_.”

Steve snorts, rolling his eyes.

“Playtime now?” Lucas asks, looking about ten times happier now that he’s not resembling a human dumpling.

“Only until dinner time.” Steve nods. “Now go pick some toys so we can take them to the kitchen with us.”

With that, Lucas is off, running to a small chest placed beside one of the bookshelves and opening it. Bucky doesn’t hold back a smile at the way Lucas goes on his tiptoes and leans over the chest, almost tipping inside of it.

“We helpin’ you make dinner?” Bucky asks, taking his own jacket and scarf off. Steve takes them from him and hangs them up, ridding himself of his coat. Bucky licks his lips when it reveals the dark blue sweater Steve’s wearing it, the soft material stretching nicely over Steve’s back and torso.

“Lucas is playing,” Steve says, turning around and wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck. Bucky doesn’t waste any time before snaking his arms around Steve’s waist, pulling him close. “And you’re sitting close to me and keeping me entertained.”

Bucky laughs, bumping his nose with Steve’s. “Now that’s hard work.”

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Steve tells him, brushing their lips together.

Their kiss is cut short by something very warm and small crashing into their legs, some jagged edges cutting into Bucky’s calves.

“Done,” Lucas says, staring up at them. He’s clutching a red firetruck in one hand a bag filled with blocks in the other. “Playtime.”

“We hear you, pal,” Bucky answers, running his fingers through Lucas’s hair. “How about you and I play while your dad does all the work?”

“Yeah!” Lucas yells, throwing his arms up.

Bucky takes the opportunity to scoop Lucas up, blowing a raspberry on his cheek. Lucas laughs, his hands coming up to Bucky’s head and accidentally hitting the sides of his face with his toys. Bucky winces, bringing Lucas’s arms down gently with his metal hand. Lucas is distracted immediately, letting go of his firetruck in favor of grasping at Bucky’s fingers, eyes rounding as the plates of Bucky’s prosthetics shift.

“Guess I’ll have to entertain myself now,” Steve comments, arms crossed over his eyes, his lips forming a faint smile.

“You’ll survive.” Bucky rolls his eyes, but pecks Steve on the lips when Steve pouts at him. “C’mon, pal. Let’s play with some blocks.”

Bucky distracts Lucas while Steve cooks, occasionally handing Steve whatever it is he needs to make them dinner. He often takes the opportunity to brush a kiss to Steve’s neck or cheek whenever he passes Steve something, unable to resist being that close to him without touching him somehow. Steve doesn’t seem to mind, if judging by the way his skin warms and blushes prettily whenever Bucky does it, a smile gracing his lips.

The domesticity of it is something he and Steve haven't experienced yet as a couple, sitting around and cooking and playing with Lucas. It makes Bucky feel all kinds of warm inside, his chest tight whenever Lucas calls his name or Steve laughs at something they do or say.

This is Steve's home, his safe haven, and he's sharing it with Bucky. He's opening up his home for Bucky, letting him share his and Lucas's lives. It's all Bucky's wanted ever since he got to know Steve and Lucas during classes.

It's all he's wanted, and now he's getting it.

So as Steve moves away from the stove so he can come up to Lucas and run a hand through his hair and then does the same thing to Bucky, tucking a strand of hair behind Bucky's ear, it shouldn't hit Bucky like a punch to the gut.

It's been building up to this, he knows.

All these months, all of their talks, all of their outings and dates. They've all been leading to this moment, right here.

Bucky is in love with Steve.

Head over heels, completely, and totally in love with Steve.

"You okay?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at Bucky as he goes back to the food.

Bucky looks at him, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Steve is standing there, cheeks red and sweating a little, muscles shifting as he cooks. Lucas is holding Bucky's metal hand, blocks abandoned as he pokes the plates of Bucky's arms and makes curious little sounds when they shift.

Bucky is warm and safe and comfortable. He's happy, here, with them. He's in _love_.

So he smiles, slow and soft and genuine. "Yeah, I'm okay."

 

* * *

Steve doesn’t know what happened in between him cooking and them sitting down to eat, but it’s impossible not to notice the change in Bucky’s behavior as they have dinner together.

The lines around Bucky’s face are softer, his eyes alight with warmth and something else entirely whenever he glances at Steve. He’s more free with his touches, which basically means Bucky is touching some part of Steve at all times. He also smiles more, at both Steve and Lucas, seeming more settled, has if he’s now sure of something he wasn’t before.

Whatever it is, whatever makes Bucky looks as happy as he does now, Steve likes it.

“Yummy,” Lucas says as picks up a piece of grilled chicken and sticks it in his mouth, his and fingers shining with grease and spit.

“You got that right, pal.” Bucky nods, eating what’s left of cherry tomatoes and pesto pasta on his plate. He moans a little, eyes glinting as he looks at Steve, winking.

“‘M glad you like it,” Steve mutters, voice a bit rough. He clears his throat, and does his best to match Bucky’s teasing mood. “But you better not get used to it. If you think I’m cooking for you all the time, you got another thing coming.”

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head at Steve. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll make sure to chip in every now and then.”

“You cook?”

Bucky shrugs. “I can get by. I’m better with breakfast foods than anythin’ else, really.”

Steve smiles a little, giving Bucky a pointed look. “We’ll have to try that sometime.”

He’s rewarded by Bucky choking on one of the last cherry tomatoes, face pink as he coughs. Lucas helps him out by reaching out an arm and patting Bucky on his shoulder, getting the front of his shirt dirty with pasta and chicken at the same time.

Bucky glares at Steve once he’s breathing again, and Steve presses his lips not to laugh. He also tries not to feel too guilty about making Bucky choke, and he mostly succeeds.

“There better be one hell of a dessert after that one,” Bucky grumbles, lips twitching up.

Before Steve can answer, Lucas is hitting his fork against the table, looking incredibly pleased with himself as he says, “Hell! Hell, hell, hell.”

Bucky’s eyes go wide with panic, his face paling as he looks from Lucas to Steve and back again. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Steve. Stevie, I didn’t mean—”

Steve waves a hand at him, shoulders slumped. “It’s fine. You’re not the only one who’s taught him a swear word.”

Lucas stops yelling, but only because he drops his fork on the floor. He looks down, frowning a little. “Damn.”

Steve looks up, asking for strength. He also ignores the choked sound of Bucky obviously trying not to laugh.

“Can you help me clear out the table while I tell him that’s another word he’s not supposed to repeat outside of this house?”

“Whatever you want,” Bucky tells him, getting up. “I’ll even wash the dishes.”

“Don’t make any offers you might regret later,” Steve warns him. “Because I will take you up on it.”

And Bucky’s smile is soft, warm and barely there, like the ones he’s been giving Steve for the past couple of hours. It makes Steve’s stomach flip, especially when Bucky comes up to him and braces a hand on his shoulder, bending down and closing the distance between their lips.

They both taste of the food they just ate and of wine. The kiss is soft, unhurried, like Bucky thinks they’ve got all the time in the world to do just this. Steve is breathing a little fast when Bucky pulls back, his throat clicking as he swallows.

“Go take care of our little guy,” Bucky says, making Steve’s heart tug in his chest. “I’ll clear the table.”

Steve watches as Bucky starts gathering the plates, feeling as if he’s frozen in place. He doesn’t think Bucky’s noticed, doesn’t think Bucky even realized what came out of his mouth. It’s the second time today that he’s referred to Lucas as _our little guy,_ his tone light but still genuine.

Bucky might not mean anything by it. It might have been a slip of the tongue, something as simple as that. But Steve can’t deny the way his breath hitches, his heart stops in his chest just to start up again, his skin tingles as warmth rushes through his body.

Steve _likes it_. He likes what those words might mean. He likes the idea of them, the weight they carry as they slip so easily through Bucky’s lips. As he watches Bucky tickles Lucas’s side and then grab his plate when Lucas is busy laughing, Steve likes _this_ , what they have right now, what they’re doing at this moment. He likes Bucky in his place and with his son, likes the three of them together, likes what all of this might mean for their future.

He likes it so much he realizes he just doesn’t like it, but that he _loves it_.

He loves this, and _he_ _loves Bucky_.

Steve is glad he’s sitting down, because he’s pretty sure he’d fall flat on his ass otherwise. It’s been so long since he’s felt like this about another person, since he’s been this _happy_ with anyone, since he’s wanted to share his life with someone who he hasn’t been friends with for years.

And of course it would be Bucky. Of course Steve would fall in love with him. He knew it could happen, since he first laid eyes on Bucky at Itsy Bitsy. That’s why he was so scared, both of admitting his feelings and of asking Bucky out. He knew what they’d have between them wouldn’t be something meaningless. He knew it’d be close to everything.

Steve laughs a little at himself, happiness blooming in his chest.

“What’s so funny?” Bucky asks, balancing three plates and a bowl on his metal hand.

“Nothing.” Steve shrugs, and he knows he’s grinning. “Everything.”

Bucky arches both eyebrows at him, and then whispers at Lucas, “Think your Daddy had too much grape juice tonight, buddy. He’s got the giggles.”

Steve bunches up a napkin and throws it a Bucky, not losing his grin when Bucky ducks expertly and smirks at him.

“I’m not drunk,” Steve protests, shaking his head. “‘M just happy.”

Bucky blinks, surprised. A second later his expressions smooths, lips curling up at the corners. “Me too, sweetheart.”

“I’m yucky,” Lucas says as he breaks the moment, resting his dirty hands on his dirtier shirt. “No yay.”

Steve snorts, getting up and picking up Lucas. He doesn’t bother trying to keep himself from getting pasta and tomato bits stuck to his shirt, knowing Lucas will find a way to get his sticky hands on him anyway.

“I’ll go wash this one,” Steve tells Bucky, walking past him and hip checking him. “Meet you at the living room? Dessert’s in the fridge.”

Bucky nods. “You got it.”

Cleaning Lucas up is not that difficult of a task once Steve says the magical words: _cake_. Lucas goes pliant on Steve’s arms so suddenly Steve almost drops him, thanking the heavens for his fast reflexes. He doesn’t change Lucas’s clothes, knowing he’ll get dirty once again as they eat dessert.

Bucky is waiting for them when they come back to the living room, three plates already on the coffee table. Lucas tries to go for the biggest slice, pouting when Bucky moves it away from him and hands him the smallest one.

“You got eyes too big for your stomach, pal.” Bucky shakes his head. “I used to be like that, too. Then one day I ate one of my Ma’s pies all by myself and got sick all over my bed. She got so mad she made me sleep on the couch _and_ do my own laundry.”

“Your Ma sounds like she knows what she’s doing,” Steve comments, holding back a smile when Bucky huffs. He sits on the couch next to Bucky, their sides pressed together.

“Has to, after raisin’ four of us,” Bucky says, handing Steve his plate. “I was an angel, though. Becca’s the one who got into trouble.”

Steve snorts out a laugh, looking down at his slice and then at Bucky’s. “I know you’re lying, and it’s not even because you got the biggest piece to yourself.”

Bucky waggles his eyebrows, stuffing his mouth full of cake. He gets a little chocolate on his top lip, and Steve, remembering their first date, doesn’t hesitate to clean it with his thumb.

“Thanks,” Bucky mumbles, knocking their knees together.

They talk a little as they eat, both of them watching Lucas get himself covered in chocolate. Cleaning Lucas up after this is a little harder, but with Bucky’s help in keeping Lucas distracted with his metal arm, they manage.

“Time for bed, bud,” Steve tells Lucas, smoothing down his robot pajamas.

Lucas scrunches up his nose, blinking heavily. “But Daddy.”

“Nope,” Steve says, picking Lucas up. “It’s almost past your bedtime. You gotta rest up if you want to run a lot tomorrow.”

Lucas frowns, dropping his forehead against his Steve’s shoulder. “Okay.”

“C’mon, I’ll tuck you in.”

“And Bucky,” Lucas adds, lifting his head and glancing at Bucky.

Steve bites down on his bottom lip, turning to Bucky. Bucky is staring back at them, mouth parted and eyes round, looking all kinds of caught off guard.

“And Bucky,” Steve agrees, voice soft. He offers a hand to Bucky, heart tripping in his chest when Bucky hesitantly takes it, his palm warm and rough against Steve’s. “We’ll both say good night.”

Lucas nods, pleased, and rests his head against Steve’s shoulder again.

“Is this really okay?” Bucky asks quietly. “You’re his dad. I don’t want to overstep—“

“It’s okay, Buck,” Steve promises, squeezing Bucky’s hand. “Really. If it wasn’t, I’d tell you.”

It’s more than okay, really. It’s back to Steve liking what they have right now, what they’re doing at this moment. Bucky in his place and with his son, likes the three of them together, getting ready to tuck Lucas into bed and say good night.

Steve briefly considers asking Bucky not to leave, to spend the night at the house, with him, in his bed. He just as quickly dismisses it, as much as he likes the  thought of it. It’s better if he brings up the idea some other time, not when Bucky’s already here, not when it might make him leave sooner if he thinks it’s not a good idea.

Lucas snuggles up to his dinosaur plush as soon as Steve puts him in bed, wiggling and squirming around until he’s under the covers and comfortable. Steve catches Bucky’s smile at this, bringing it up one of his own.

“Good night, Lucas,” Steve says, placing a kiss to the top of his son’s head. “Love you.”

“Love you, Daddy,” Lucas mumbles, and then looks around for Bucky.

Bucky comes up to the bed, glancing at Steve one more time as if to check if this is really okay. Steve nods at him, sliding his hand into Bucky’s, the metal cool against his skin.

“Night, pal,” Bucky says, so quiet it’s almost a whisper. He kisses the top of Lucas’s head, swiping Lucas’s hair away from his face. “Sweet dreams.”

“Night, Bucky,” Lucas sighs, closing his eyes and falling asleep.

They both watch Lucas for a few seconds, leaning into each other. Steve is the one who tugs at Bucky’s hand, tilting his head to the door. He’s spent many nights watching Lucas sleep, and by the look on Bucky’s face he knows Bucky isn’t opposed to doing the same thing right now.

“So,” Bucky says quietly, squeezing Steve’s hand. “Kid’s asleep.”

“Yup.” Steve’s lips twitch up as he watches Bucky from the corner of his eye. “Won’t wake up for anything, either. He sleeps like a rock.”

Bucky hums, a low sound in the back of his throat, and stops in the middle of the living room. He turns around so he can face Steve, not letting go of Steve’s hand.

“Does this mean we can make out without interruptions?” Bucky asks, smirking. “At least for a little while?”

Steve snorts, pulling Bucky to him. “Guess so,” he agrees. “And people think you’re such a charmer.”

“Worked for you, didn’t it?” Bucky shrugs, dropping his hand from Steve’s so he can rest them on Steve’s hips. “‘Cause I don’t see you complainin’.”

“No,” Steve answers, resting their foreheads together. “I know how lucky I am.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs, brushing their lips together once. “You’ve got it all wrong. The lucky one here’s me.”

“Buck—,” Steve starts, stomach flipping.

“Never in a million years thought I was gonna meet someone like you,” Bucky says, pressing kisses to Steve’s chin, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose. “Let alone get you to agree to go out with me. And now we’re here, together, after havin’ dinner and puttin’ Lucas to sleep.” Bucky looks up at Steve, eyes glinting as he smiles. “And I’m about to take you to that couch over there and kiss you ‘til we’re both dizzy. If that ain’t luck, baby, I don’t know what it is.”

Steve doesn’t know who moves first, doesn’t really care. All that matters is the feeling of Bucky’s lips against his own, soft and warm and _right_ , tasting of chocolate and wine. Steve pushes Bucky until they’re sprawled over the couch, stopping their kissing so they can laugh and rearrange themselves, with Bucky lying on his back and Steve on top of him.

“Hi,” Steve says, a little breathless.

“Hey.” Bucky cups Steve’s face with a hand, thumb tracing over Steve’s bottom lip. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

Steve feels himself blush, leaning in so he can kiss Bucky’s cheek. “Look who’s talking.”

Bucky huffs, sliding his metal hand under the hem of Steve’s shirt, making him yelp. “Don’t look so hot now, do I?”

Steve rolls his eyes at him, grabbing Bucky’s hand and bringing it to his lips. He makes a show of kissing each of Bucky’s fingers and knuckles, the metal cool against him.

“Feels kind of cold, maybe,” Steve admits. “But there’s nothing ugly about this. Or any other part of you.”

“Haven’t seen all of me yet,” Bucky mutters, throat working as he swallows.

Steve drops more of his weight over Bucky, letting go of Bucky’s hand so he can bracket Bucky’s head with his arms. They’re so close their noses touch, and Steve can’t help but nuzzle into it.

“I know you have scars,” Steve says, voice low. “But so do I. If you think they’ll bother me, you’re dead wrong.”

Bucky brings his arms around Steve’s waist, hugging him tight. “There was a lot of damage.”

“I know,” Steve says, pressing a kiss to the corner of Bucky’s mouth. He’s seen injuries like that before, too many of them to not know what it must look like. “Still don’t care.”

Bucky frowns a little at him, fingers tracing patterns on the small of Steve’s back. “This isn’t going how I planned.”

Steve knows deflection when he sees it, but he also knows it won’t do him any good to push Bucky on this.

“Thought you were gonna kiss me and see if I let you get to second base?”

“Please.” Bucky rolls his eyes, smiling a little. “I _know_ you will.”

Steve’s gasp is swallowed by Bucky’s mouth on his, and as he lets himself fall into the kiss he forgets all about being offended. And he also doesn’t stop Bucky’s hand as it slides up his side and over his chest, Bucky’s palm cupping his pecs and fingers pinching his nipple. But he does give Bucky a hickey in retaliation.

A very big one.

One the side of his neck.

“Scarf’s gonna cover that,” Bucky tells him, amused.

Steve kisses over the mark. “Not when you’re teaching.”

Bucky groans, taking his hand from Steve’s chest so he can cover his eyes. “Fuck, Nat will never let me live it down. Or Clint. Or Kate.” He uncovers his face so he can glare at Steve. “Thanks a lot, Stevie, really.”

“No problem,” Steve says, smiling big. “And you can always come hide here. Don’t know if you’ve noticed but Lucas and I kinda like you.”

“Kinda?” Bucky raises an eyebrow.

“Most of the time,” Steve answers. “But not when you’re not with us.”

Steve feels Bucky melt under him, eyes shining as Bucky looks up. Steve swallows, throat suddenly dry. He means what he’s said, though. Having Bucky around is always better than being away from him. Considering that, Steve kind of wants to smack himself for taking until _tonight_ to figure out he’s head over heels in love with Bucky.

“Is that you sayin’ you want me around?”

Steve nods. “For as long as you want to stay around.”

Bucky takes a deep breath, bringing one of his hands to rest on the middle of Steve’s chest. Steve has no doubts Bucky can feel how fast his heart is beating.

“Might be a long time,” Bucky says, honest.

“A long time?”

“Yeah.” Bucky tilts his head up, lips almost brushing against Steve’s. “‘Til the end of the line.”

“That _is_ a long time.” Steve rests their foreheads together. “I think I’m okay with it.”

Steve’s more than okay with it. He’s so okay with it he’s a little _scared_ of how right this feels.

“You gotta be sure,” Bucky tells him. “This is a big deal.”

“I know,” Steve replies, moving his hand so he can play with Bucky’s hair. “I knew when I started this. If I didn’t think you’d be great with Lucas and if I didn’t think I’d want to share our lives with you, I wouldn’t have asked you out.”

“Lucas is a great kid, you know,” Bucky says, breath ghosting over Steve’s chin.

Steve smiles a little, pulling back so he can see Bucky’s face. “He loves you. He doesn’t like most people, but he loves you.”

Bucky blinks, eyes misty. “I love him, too. Kid’s not hard to love.”

“I know. You called him ‘our little guy’,” Steve cuts him off, kissing the tip of Bucky’s nose when Bucky freezes under him. “Twice.”

“I didn’t mean—,” Bucky starts, eyes wide.

“It’s okay,” Steve assures him. “I don’t… I don’t mind.” Steve laughs a little, shaking his head at himself. “Kind of the opposite, really. I guess I’m a little surprised with how much it _doesn’t_ bother me.”

“Stevie,” Bucky murmurs, biting down on his bottom lip.

“So I’m okay with it,” Steve continues. “I’m sure. I want you around as long as you want to be around. ‘Til the end of the line.”

Bucky stares at him for a few seconds, as if searching for something. He must find whatever it is he’s looking for, because then he’s surging up and pressing their lips together, surprisingly soft and gentle.

“Seems kinda dumb to say it now, but…,” Bucky trails off, kissing Steve again. “I love you.”

Steve grins and kisses Bucky again, deep and hot and sweet. “Never dumb to say it. And I love you, too.”

“Good.” Bucky grins. “Woulda been awkward as hell if you said you didn’t.”

Steve shakes his head. “We wouldn’t want that.”

“Nope,” Bucky agrees. “But I am good with more kisses, though.”

“You always are,” is all Steve says, and then he leans in and kisses Bucky again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so far no one's asked about it, but i think this will have 9 chapters + an epilogue. just in case you were wondering. but since i'm not sure, i'm not updating it with chapter numbers just yet :3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky bends down and scoops Lucas up, hugging him tight to his chest. “You ready to go build a snowman, kiddo?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we have a chapter count! 9 + an (explicit, i think) epilogue :D
> 
> also i know i've been really bad at replying to comments, but i read and appreciate all of them :* <3

“So you’ve finally told him.”

“Yes,” Steve says, ducking his head. He groans when he hears Sophia squeal, his cheeks flushing. “Shuddup.”

“ _You_ shut up,” she snaps back, and even through the shitty webcam imagine, Steve can see that she’s glaring. “I’m allowed to be happy for you.”

Steve sighs. “I know.”

“Especially since I was the one—”

“Oh, here we go.”

“—who convinced you to start yoga classes anyway,” Sophia finishes, sounding and looking all kinds of smug. “You should be thankful.”

“I am,” Steve tells her, serious. “Really. For everything you’ve done for me. Not just for this.”

Sophia smiles a little, shaking her head at him. “Don’t start with that now. I know holidays get to you, but stop.”

“Fine.” Steve shrugs. “Are you sure you won’t be able to come for Christmas this year?”

“I am.” Sophia nods, eyes sad. “I’m sorry. I wish I could see you and Lucas.”

“He’s gonna miss you,” Steve says softly.

“He’ll be fine.”

“Sophia, you’re his mo—”

“Don’t start with _that_ now, either,” Sophia cuts him off. “I may have given birth to him, but I’m more of a cool aunt than anything at this point. And that's my choice.”

Steve presses his lips together, not saying anything. He knows as much as he loves being a parent, that’s not for everyone. Sophia is happy just seeing them a few times a year or Skyping, and Steve knows it doesn’t do any good to push her for more. Even though sometimes he wishes Lucas could have both of his parents with him.

His mind goes to Bucky at that, bringing memories of him with Lucas and the three of them together these past months. So Sophia might not be around as much as Steve wishes she was, but Bucky’s been there when Steve didn’t even know that was something he _could_ wish for.

“Do you want me to go get him?” Steve asks, glancing at Lucas. “He’s playing, but I think he’d stop for you.”

“You think, huh? Just so I can wish him happy holidays,” Sophia says. “And you too.”

Steve puts his laptop by his side on the couch and gets up, going to pick up Lucas. Lucas looks displeased when he’s taken away from his toys, but he smiles big as soon as he sees Sophia’s face.

“Hi!” Lucas says, waving his hands in front of the camera.

“Hi, Lucas.” Sophia smiles back, leaning closer to the screen. “Wow, you’ve gotten so big!”

The three of them talk for a little while, Steve doing his best to keep Lucas from hitting the keyboard whenever he gets too excited. Sophia wishes them the best for the holidays, promising to stop by next year for Lucas’s birthday and bringing back the double amount of presents.

“He doesn’t need that many gifts,” Steve says, already having visions of stuff strown over the house and tripping over toys when he gets up at night. Nevermind he's already done half of his Christmas shopping and knows the outcome will be about the same.

Lucas doesn’t seem to agree, because he sticks his tongue out at Steve and says, “I do!”

Sophia gasps, all mock offense. “Who taught you that?”

Steve scrubs a hand over his face. “Bucky did.”

He can’t even be angry when that makes Sophia burst out laughing, but he doesn’t protest when she says she has to let them go. At least that’ll keep her from making _too_ much fun of him. Lucas sends her kisses and waves before they disconnect the call, and then tugs at Steve’s shirt until Steve puts him down and leaves him to play.

Steve kills some time on his computer, going over his work emails and making sure he doesn’t leave anything important to do during the holiday break. He checks in on Lucas every few minutes, just to make sure he hasn’t destroyed anything or put something in his mouth that he shouldn’t.

It’s mid afternoon when the doorbell rings, Steve smiling a little when Lucas turns to him, eyes wide. “I’ll be right back, okay, buddy?”

“Bye, Daddy,” Lucas says, barely looking up from his toys.

Steve grins when he sees Bucky waiting on the other side of him, nose and cheeks red from the cold, snow on his hair and coat.

“I’m all wet,” Bucky protests when Steve leans in to kiss him. He doesn’t push Steve away, though, something Steve is happy about.

“Come in.” Steve tugs at his scarf. “I’ll get you some dry clothes.”

Steve hears Lucas say hello to Bucky as he goes through his drawers in search for something that’ll fit Bucky, smiling to himself. He settles for sweatpants and one of the sweaters he’s seen Bucky admiring whenever he wears it, also picking up a pair of socks in case Bucky needs it.

“Don’t I get some underwear, too?”

Steve looks over his shoulder to see Bucky leaning against the doorframe, Lucas perched on his hip. He’s down to his jeans and a long sleeved shirt, still looking a little damp and cold at the edges. The sight makes Steve’s stomach flip and his heart tug in his chest, warmth rushing through his body. This is the kind of stuff he wants, the easy way they move around each other, fit into each other’s lives.

“I have a pair of boxers with little ducks on them I think you might like,” Steve offers, coming up to Bucky and handing him the clothes.

“I’m so tempted,” Bucky says dryly, pressing a kiss to Steve’s nose. “But I’ll pass.”

“If you’re sure.” Steve shrugs, taking Lucas from Bucky. “C’mon, bud. We’ll let Bucky change, then he can warm up with us.”

“With some hot chocolate?” Bucky asks.

“And clouds?” Lucas adds, looking up at Steve.

Steve doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry as he looks from Bucky to Lucas and back again. They’re both staring at him with round eyes, blue and bright and _so hopeful_ , like they might start crying if Steve says no to hot chocolate with marshmallows. They look so _alike_ in that moment that Steve has to lean against the wall for support. It doesn’t help, because that just makes Bucky and Lucas frown at him, still looking so much like each other Steve gets a bit dizzy.

“I’m okay,” Steve hears himself say, voice unsteady.

“You don’t lookit.” Bucky comes closer to him, cupping Steve’s cheek. “We don’t need hot chocolate if it makes you look like that. We can just cuddle.”

“But clouds,” Lucas protests, now pouting.

Steve laughs, shaky but giddy. “It’s okay,” he says. “We can have it. Hot chocolate, clouds, and cuddles. But only after you change.”

“You sure?” Bucky asks, still looking worried.

Steve nods and brushes their lips together, unhurried and sweet. “I’m sure. Lucas will help me, won’t you?”

And Lucas does, his little tongue sticking out of his mouth as he concentrates on dumping marshmallows into their mugs. Steve has to stop him from licking a few of them, but at the end of it the drinks are as good as they’ll get; which is to say: _really good_.

Bucky cuddles up to them on the couch once he’s dry again, Steve’s sweater hanging off his shoulder. He grabs the quilt Steve keeps on the back of the couch and throws it over them, making sure Lucas is bundled up tight on Steve’s lap before grabbing his cup and the remote control. They queue up a few kids’ movies on Netflix and settle down, Lucas doing his best to pay attention to the tv and not spill any chocolate _or_ marshmallows down his clothes.

“I know what you did,” Bucky murmurs, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder and taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says, not helping his case at all when he snakes an arm around Bucky’s neck and starts tracing random patterns on the bare skin of his shoulder.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Bucky huffs, smoothing a hand over his own chest. “You know exactly how much I like seein’ you wear this.”

“Thought it’d look better on you,” Steve replies, moving his fingers from Bucky’s shoulder so he can slide them under the collar, feeling Bucky’s heartbeat under his palm. “As always, I was right.”

Bucky snorts into his mug, eyes dancing as he looks up at Steve. “I’ll leave you with your delusions.”

Steve rolls his eyes at him. “Eat your marshmallows, Buck.”

Bucky does, although Steve ends up sharing his with Lucas, who promptly sticks his fingers into Steve’s mug when he’s not paying attention. Bucky almost chokes on his own tongue laughing at the outraged look on Steve’s face, but then goes into the kitchen to put the dishes in the sink and comes back with a few marshmallows on his hand.

“Gotta keep the kid distracted,” Bucky whispers, sneaking one into Steve’s hand. “‘Cause if he looks up at me with those eyes of his, I’m giving up all your sweets to him.”

Steve shakes his head, amused. “James Buchanan Barnes, highly decorated officer, can’t handle saying no to two-year-old.”

“Nothin’ shameful about knowin’ your weaknesses, Stevie,” Bucky tells him. “Just happens that a two-year-old boy named Lucas Rogers and his dad are mine.”

Steve knows he has a dumb smile on his face, but he can’t help it. He also doesn’t stop himself from closing the distance between them and pressing a kiss to Bucky’s mouth.

“Wait until they start singing,” Steve says, tilting his head in the direction of the tv. “Lucas always stays glued to the screen whenever there’s singing.”

Bucky nods. “Our little guy likes music, got it.”

Steve grins when he sees Bucky realize what he just called Lucas, charmed by the way Bucky’s cheeks turn pink. “Yeah,” he says, nuzzling his nose against Bucky’s. “You got it.”

The three of them spend the afternoon like that, watching movies, with Bucky sneaking Steve marshmallows every once in awhile. Lucas ends up falling asleep against Steve, sprawled over his lap with his legs over Bucky’s, his mouth open as he breathes.

Bucky snaps a picture, shrugging when Steve raises an eyebrow at him. “He’s cute.”

Steve thinks Lucas looks even cuter when he’s in bed, clutching his dinosaur plush to his chest, his covers pulled up to his chin. He tells Bucky as much, who just makes a face at him.

“You think he’s cute all the time, don’t you?” Steve teases once they’re back in the living room, poking Bucky in the stomach.

“Hasn’t seen otherwise so far.”

“Just wait until he’s cranky and yelling and refusing to eat his vegetables.”

Bucky smiles a little, wistful. “Lookin’ forward to it.”

“So,” Steve says, lying down on the couch and pulling Bucky on top of him. “I don’t think I’ve asked you yet, but what are your plans for Christmas?”

“Indiana,” Bucky says, tucking his head under Steve’s chin. “Gotta visit the family so my Ma doesn’t decide to move back to the city again.”

“Would that be so bad?” Steve frowns.

“Not bad.” Bucky presses his mouth against Steve’s throat. “But she likes to get involved. And I don’t need my Ma telling me how to live my life. Or my sisters, for that matter. I already got them thinking they know what’s best for me whenever they decide to visit. I don’t need them living only a few blocks away from me.”

“Okay, well…,” Steve trails off, not really knowing what to say to that.

“Why did you wanna know?”

Steve swallows, now feeling Bucky’s lips against his jaw. “Thought we could do something together with Lucas if you weren’t doing anything. Maybe a few days before Christmas now that I know you won’t be here.”

Bucky lifts his head, blinking down at Steve. “I’d like that,” he says, voice soft. “And I come back on the 30th. We could spend New Years together, too?”

“Yeah, Buck.” Steve tilts his head up to kiss him, sliding one hand on the back of Bucky’s neck. “How are you with New Years, though?”

“Fireworks?” Bucky asks, and Steve nods. “Not as bad as when I first came back, but still not as okay as I’d like. Clint, Nat, and I usually go up to Clint’s farm. It’s pretty much in the middle of nowhere, so we don’t get a lot of noise or bright lights.”

“Tony redid my house after I first bought it,” Steve tells him, lips turned down. “Without really telling me or asking me for my permission. He knew loud noises triggered me, so some of the rooms that get a lot of use are soundproof now.”

“Oh,” Bucky gapes. “That’s— I don’t know if that’s invasive or nice of him.”

“That’s pretty much how it always is with Tony,” Steve sighs, sliding his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “But what do you say? Want to try spending New Years here with us?”

Bucky hesitates. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“We usually stay in the living room,” Steve tells him. “If we turn on the tv or put on a movie or some music we can’t really hear anything. I always close the blinds, too. And all of my friends know what to do if something happens, especially Pepper and Maria.”

“Not Sam or Tony?”

“Chances are if things are loud enough, I’m not going to be the only one having flashbacks,” Steve tells him, grimacing.

“I guess that’s what happens when all of our friends served.”

“Or were kidnapped, in Tony’s case.”

Bucky shakes his head, eyes sad. “You don’t spend New Years with Aunt Debbie?”

Steve shakes his head. “Just Christmas. She usually travels some place after we’re all done eating her food. I think this year she’s going to England.”

“Living the life.”

“She deserves it,” Steve says, fingers playing with Bucky’s hair. “So, New Years? I’ll also invite Natasha and Clint.”

“Nat is good backup if we need her,” Bucky murmurs, dropping his head so his forehead touches Steve’s. “But we’d need to talk about what happens if either of us freaks out, though.”

“Absolutely.”

Bucky kisses him once, short and quick. “Can I get back to you on that?”

“Sure, Bucky.”

“I like the Christmas idea, though,” Bucky tells him, rubbing their cheeks together once before he tucks his head under Steve’s chin again. “I didn’t want to just let it pass without doing anything with you guys. Or buying Lucas a gift.”

“What about me?” Steve asks, scratching his nails against Bucky’s scalp. “Do I get any gifts?”

Steve can feel Bucky smiling against his skin, so he’s not at all surprised when Bucky says, “You get me.”

And suddenly their Christmas couldn’t come fast enough.

 

* * *

 

“Look at you, all nervous about spending the night at your boyfriend’s house for the first time.”

Bucky scowls at Clint, ignoring the way he feels his face heat. “It’s a big step.”

“It’s about time, if you ask me,” Natasha says, not looking up from where she’s petting Lucky.

“Well, no one _did_ ,” Bucky grumbles. “So keep your opinions to yourself.”

“You love my opinions,” Natasha replies. “They’ve saved your life more often than not.”

Bucky kind of has to give that one to her, so he doesn’t say anything back. Instead he goes back to packing his bag, double checking he’s got everything he needs to stay over at Steve’s for the night. He still has butterflies in his stomach about it, even though it’s been a couple of days since Steve asked him if he wanted to try spending the night at his place.

Like Bucky said, this is kind of a big deal.

It’s the first time they’ll share a bed for longer than to take a quick nap, the first time Bucky will be able to hold Steve through the night, be there when Lucas wakes up. So it’s no wonder Bucky is a little nervous. He’s also a lot giddy, but Clint and Natasha don’t need to know that.

“Here’s an opinion I want from you.” Bucky turns to her, crossing his arms over his chest. “What do I get Steve and Lucas for Christmas?”

“Sex for Steve and a dog for Lucas,” Clint pipes up before Natasha can open her mouth. “You’re welcome.”

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose, asking for strength.

“I’m not telling you what to get for your boyfriend and his son.” Natasha raises an eyebrow at him. “That’s personal.”

“Don’t you have any ideas?”

“Personal,” Natasha repeats.

Bucky sighs, shoulders slumping. “I’ll figure something out.”

“Of course you will.” Clint comes up to him, clapping him on the shoulder. “Or you could just listen to me.”

Bucky flicks Clint on the nose, grinning when he yelps.

“Okay, I’m out of here.” Bucky shoulders his bag, wraps a scarf around his neck, and puts on his flat cap. “Don’t eat all my food.”

“We make no promises!” Clint yells out.

Bucky is less nervous when he gets to Steve’s, but that might be because he’s too busy curling and uncurling his left hand to make sure his fingers aren’t frozen. He’s sniffling a little, his nose and cheeks cold, his lips a little chapped when he licks them.

“We gotta stop meeting like this,” is what Steve says when he opens the door to find Bucky there, dripping wet and covered in snow.

“Unless you let me move in with you, I can’t see how we’ll manage.”

Steve blinks at him, flushing a little. “We’ll figure something out.”

It’s almost routine by this point for Bucky to get rid of his wet clothes and hand them to Steve, going to Steve’s bedroom and rummaging his drawers for a pair of sweats and his favorite sweater. It makes him smile a little, that he has a favorite sweater that belongs to Steve and that Steve is not bothered at all by seeing Bucky wear it.

“You should wear my clothes all the time,” Steve mumbles against the back of Bucky’s neck, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist.

“Don’t see how that could work.” Bucky leans back against him, relaxing into the warmth of Steve’s body pressed to his. “Your pants are all too tight at the waist. Makes it look like I got no underwear on.”

“Exactly,” Steve says, smiling into Bucky’s neck. “I’m glad you see my point.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and turns around in Steve’s arms. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hiya, Buck.”

Steve makes a little pleased sound in the back of his throat when Bucky kisses him, opening up when Bucky nips at his bottom lip. He’s always so sweet like this, letting Bucky kiss him, taste him, for as long as he wants, until they’re both flushed and breathless.

“Missed you,” Bucky murmurs against Steve’s lips, nuzzling their noses together.

“You saw me two days ago.”

Bucky shrugs one shoulder, placing a kiss to Steve’s chin. “Still missed you.”

Steve smiles, soft and pleased. “Me too,” he says. “So did Lucas. He kept asking for you.”

“Where is he, by the way? Still asleep?”

“Yeah.” Steve nods. “Should wake up in a few minutes, though.”

Bucky hums, kissing the corner of Steve’s mouth. “Want to make out in your bed until he does?”

Steve snorts, eyes glinting. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Bucky lets himself be pushed down onto Steve’s bed, grinning when Steve climbs on top of him. They haven't done much more than just kiss and rut against each other until they came in their pants, and while Bucky thinks Steve might be up for it if he makes a move, he is in no hurry to try for more. As cheesy as it may sound, he really just wants to fall asleep with Steve tonight.

Steve pulls at Bucky’s hair tie until it comes out, throwing it across the room and making Bucky laugh into his chest.

“Why do you hate them so much?” Bucky asks, tilting his head up so he can mouth at Steve’s throat, feeling the beat of Steve’s pulse against his lips.

“I don’t hate them,” Steve tells him. “But at home they keep me from doing _this_.”

Bucky moans low in his throat when Steve slides his fingers through his hair _tugs_ , sharp pinpricks of pain mixing into pleasure when Steve ducks his head down and kisses him, hot and deep and wet. Bucky is helpless but to kiss back, slipping his hands under Steve’s hoodie, feeling the muscles shift under his palm.

“I’m never comin’ here with my hair up again,” Bucky gasps into Steve’s mouth, fingers digging into Steve’s back as Steve moves down to Bucky’s jaw and neck, marking Bucky as he goes.

“You can,” Steve says, licking at the hollow of Bucky’s throat. “But this is good.”

Bucky wants to agree, but then Steve is surging up to kiss him again and all Bucky can do is kiss him back. They spend the next ten minutes or so like this, rolling around in bed and getting lost in each other, kissing and tasting and biting until their lips are swollen and red. Bucky knows he has at least three hickeys covering his neck, and he traces the stubble burn on Steve’s neck and shoulder with the tips of his fingers.

“Your hair looks like a small animal nested in it,” Steve comments, lips curling up as he gets his fingers tangled in the knots on Bucky’s hair.

“‘S all your fault,” Bucky mumbles, shifting so they’re lying side by side and he can throw a leg over Steve’s hip. “You’re the one who’s gonna comb it later.”

“Such hard work,” Steve sighs, laughing when Bucky bites his chin. “I’ll make you pretty again, don’t worry.”

“‘M always pretty,” Bucky sniffs. “You’re the one who’s got an ugly mug.”

“You seem very fond of my ugly mug.”

Bucky pecks Steve on the lips, light and quick. “There’s no accounting for taste, really.”

“Daddy?”

Bucky and Steve untangle themselves from each other and get up, righting their clothes as they walk to Lucas’s bedroom. Bucky tries his best to gather his hair into a bun, wincing whenever his fingers pull at a knot. He was mostly joking when he said Steve would have to comb his hair later, but now Bucky is thinking he’s actually going to make him.

“Hey, buddy.” Steve picks Lucas up, swiping his hair away from his face. “Did you sleep okay?”

Lucas just yawns, knuckling at his eyes. He mumbles something too low for either of them to hear, and then rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, eyes closed.

“Guess he’s not really awake yet,” Bucky comments, smiling a little and coming up behind Steve, resting his chin on top of Steve’s shoulder. He looks down at Lucas, reaching a hand so he can trace his finger down the bridge of Lucas’s nose. Lucas wrinkles his nose, batting Bucky’s hand away.

“Give him a couple of minutes,” Steve says, lips twitching up. “It always takes him a little while to come to.”

Bucky hums, placing a kiss just under Steve’s ear and then glancing down at Lucas again. He watches in amusement as Lucas rubs his cheek against Steve’s shoulder, eyelashes fluttering when he blinks slowly and opens his eyes. He mumbles something again, lifting his head up and yawning.

“Daddy?” Lucas asks, staring sleeply up at Steve.

“Right here.”

Lucas pats Steve on the cheek twice, clumsy and light. He then seems to notice Bucky very much attached to Steve’s back, because he reaches for him with his other hand, palm ending up covering Bucky’s mouth.

“Bucky?”

Bucky kisses Lucas’s palm once before uncovering his face. “Yeah, pal.”

“Hi,” Lucas says quietly, dropping his hands to Steve’s chest. “What now?”

Bucky chuckles, chest brushing against Steve’s back. “What now, Stevie?”

“Well,” Steve starts, pursing his lips. “We could eat.”

“Cookies?” Lucas perks up, hitting at Steve’s chest.

“ _Or_ we could put on our snow boots and go play outside.”

Bucky groans when Lucas’s eyes widen and he claps his hands in excitement, now suddenly wide awake and yelling, “Yes!”

“I just got warm again,” Bucky complains, pouting a little. “And my clothes are still wet.”

“You can wear mine.” Steve turns around in Bucky’s arms and bumps their hips together, smirking a little. “Or you can stay inside and do something else.”

“Oh, I see.” Bucky nods slowly, narrowing his eyes. “This is just another ploy to get me to wear your clothes again.”

Steve blinks at him, all faux innocence. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Buck. Lucas loves playing in the snow.”

“Yes!” Lucas pipes up, tugging at Steve’s shirt. “Daddy, _go_.”

Bucky can’t help but smile a little, tickling Lucas on his side. Lucas squeals and bursts out laughing, trying to bat Bucky’s hand away. It’s infectious, seeing Lucas this happy. It never fails to bring a smile to Bucky’s face, never fails to make warmth bloom in his chest, to listen to Lucas laugh so freely with him.

“So what do you say?” Steve asks him, grinning his as big.

Bucky glances from him to Lucas and back again, and then places one kiss on the top of Lucas’s head and another one on Steve’s cheek. “Guess I say yes.”

Lucas looks like a fluffy penguin when Steve is done bundling him up, only his eyes peeking out from behind his scarf and beanie. Bucky doesn’t look much better, although Steve’s sweater and coat are a bit loose on him.

“If I slip I’m not even gonna feel it,” Bucky says, looking down at himself. “I’m just gonna roll on the floor like the weird-shaped ball that I am right now.”

Steve kisses the tip of his nose. “You look cute.”

“I look stuffed.”

“Doesn’t Bucky look pretty, Lucas?” Steve asks his son, who’s doing his best to walk to the door without tripping on his feet.

“Yeah!” Lucas says, voice muffled. “Me too!”

Bucky bends down and scoops Lucas up, hugging him tight to his chest. “You ready to go build a snowman, kiddo?”

As it turns out, Lucas is. So much so he spends the next couple of hours running around in the snow, yelling, and getting himself wet. Steve teaches him how to make snow angels while Bucky tackles the art of making snowballs. Lucas doesn’t seem to have the patience for either of those things, instead entertaining himself by watching the footprints he leaves on the ground and laughing whenever he slips and falls. He also seems utterly fascinated by the look on Steve’s face when Bucky manages to hit him right in the middle of his chest with a snowball, his little mouth dropping open and his eyes going big.

Steve looks much the same, if Bucky is being honest, surprise written all over his face. Until he recovers, that is. “Oh, you’re gonna get it.”

All Bucky has time to do is run to Lucas and kneel down beside him, pretending as if he’s hiding behind him. “Don’t let Daddy get to me, Lucas! Save me!”

Lucas raises his arms in front of him, palm up, effectively stopping Steve in his tracks. Bucky breathes a sigh of relief, dropping his forehead to rest on the back of Lucas’s head. Which is why he doesn’t see Steve handing Lucas his snowball. Not until Lucas turns around and hits him smack in the face.

“Gotcha!”

Lucas and Steve’s laughter echoes around them, loud and bright and delighted. Bucky has snow in his mouth, his nose, his eyelashes, his face going numb with cold. He should feel absolutely miserable, but this is the happiest he’s ever been. Especially when Steve helps him up and Lucas tries to brush snow away from his hair, wet mittens hitting the side of Bucky’s face.

“Let’s go warm up,” Steve says, kissing Bucky’s forehead. “You can take use my bathroom while I get Lucas cleaned up.”

Bucky is shivering by the time he steps into Steve’s shower, the water hot against his skin. He tries not to think about how this is the first time he’s been completely _naked_ in Steve’s apartment, busying himself with getting the feelings back into his toes and hands and nose. He doesn’t know how long he stands there under the spray, coaxing warmth back into his body.

At least not until he hears a knock on the door, Steve’s voice on the other side asking, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, voice a little rough. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Bucky makes quick work of getting dry with one of Steve’s fluffy towels, and then curses himself for not picking any clothes before taking his shower. He wraps the towel around his waist, quickly glancing at himself in the mirror. His hair is wet and slicked back away from his face, his skin flushed. The scars around his prosthetics cover his left shoulder and come down on his chest and back, angry lines reminding Bucky of things he wished he could forget. He takes a deep breath, glancing away, and makes him way to Steve’s bedroom.

Bucky knows Steve is there waiting for him, but his breath still gets stuck in his lungs when he sees him. Steve’s sitting on the bed, head down as he pulls on a pair of socks, blond hair dark and wet.

“I put your clothes on the drier before we went outside, so you can wear them again if you want,” Steve tells him. “Or you can just borrow some of mine again. You know I don’t mind.”

“What is it with that, huh?” Bucky asks, not sounding as steady as he’d like. “Do you like doing laundry or something?”

Steve looks up at that, brows furrowing in concern. Bucky sees and listens as Steve’s breath hitches, as his eyes widen, as his mouth parts. Bucky can’t help but squirm a little in place, stomach churning and face heating as Steve keeps staring.

“And?” Bucky forces himself to ask again. He refuses to stand down now that he’s here, exposing himself in this way. If Steve can’t deal with how he looks, he’s better off knowing now than later. “‘Cause every time I wear somethin’ of yours, you got more laundry to do.”

Steve swallows, eyes moving to Bucky’s face. “You look comfortable in my things,” he says, licking his lips. “I like you seeing you like that. That’s why.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, still standing there, only in a towel, scars plain for Steve to see. “Okay.”

“I think—,” Steve starts, licks his lips again. His cheeks are turning pink in a way Bucky is familiar with, eyes darkening. “I think this is my favorite look so far, though. If… If that’s— If you’re okay with that. With me. Seeing you this way.”

Bucky’s mouth dries and his heart flips in his chest. He feels both hot and cold at the same time, dizzy and breathless, relieved and happy and _lucky_.

“Wouldn’t be doin’ this if I wasn’t,” is what Bucky says, which makes Steve raise an eyebrow at him. So they both know he’s lying a little, both know this was some kind of test: Bucky pushing Steve to see what he’d do.

“Can I—,” Steve gets up, takes a step closer, stops. He looks at Bucky, hesitant and wanting.

Bucky rolls his eyes and walks right up to him, leaning into his personal space, relief at Steve not minding the way his body looks making him giddy.

“You gonna stare or you gonna kiss me?” Bucky asks, resting their foreheads together.

“I really don’t know,” Steve breathes out, hands falling to Bucky’s hips, thumbs rubbing circles on Bucky’s bare skin.

“Too dazzled by my good looks?” Bucky jokes, wiggling his hips a little, the towel sliding down an inch around his waist.

“Absolutely,” Steve says in a tone that means he’s not joking at all.

Bucky shivers, pressing closer to Steve, brushing their lips together once, twice, three times. Just as he’s about to deepen their kisses, they hear little feet paddling around, coming straight for Steve’s bedroom.

“Don’t want him to see—,” Bucky steps back, muscles tensing at the thought of Lucas catching sight of him.

Steve gives him a nod of understanding, pecking Bucky on the lips once before going, intercepting Lucas as he’s almost to the bedroom. Bucky sighs, suddenly tired, scrubbing a hand over his face. He goes to his overnight bag, grabbing his pajama pants and putting them on. He decides to steal another one of Steve’s hoodies, relaxing as soon as he feels the soft fabric around him.

Bucky isn’t as cheerful for the rest of the day, something Steve understands and respects. Lucas also seems to catch on to Bucky’s mood, because he climbs onto the couch and lays his head down on Bucky’s lap, grabbing Bucky’s metal hand and playing with his fingers as they watch tv.

Bucky feels full to bursting with love and affection for Steve and Lucas by the time night comes around. He even gives Lucas a few extra kisses and cuddles when they tuck him in for the night, wishing him sweet dreams.

There’s silence between Bucky and Steve as they head to Steve’s room. Bucky leans against Steve’s side, arm around Steve’s waist, while Steve has an arm thrown over his shoulder, fingers playing with his hair. It makes Bucky sleepy, something he doesn’t bother hiding as he presses his face into Steve’s shoulder and yawns.

“C’mon,” Steve says, hand going to the back of Bucky’s neck, squeezing it once. “Let’s get _you_ into bed.”

“Sounds good to me,” Bucky mumbles, rubbing his cheek against Steve’s shoulder.

“Did you get that from Lucas?” Steve asks, and Bucky doesn’t have to look up at him to know that he’s smiling.

Bucky shrugs one shoulder. “Dunno. Maybe. You’ve got his frown and smile, it’s only fair if I get somethin’ too.”

Steve is silent for a few seconds, letting the door ajar so they can hear if Lucas wakes up at night. “I think he gets that from me, actually.”

Bucky makes a sound that is neither agreement nor denial, letting go of Steve so he can flop face down on Steve’s bed. He crawls until he has his head on the pillow, pawing at the covers and whining he fails to get under them. He can hear Steve laugh at him, low and choked and like he doesn’t want Bucky to know.

“Stop laughin’ and _help me_ ,” Bucky complains, going limp on the bed.

Steve runs a hand through Bucky’s hair, brushing the strands away from his face. “As you wish.”

“Love you, too,” Bucky promptly replies, smiling at the soft look on Steve’s face.

It takes some maneuvering, but soon they’re both lying down and under the covers. Bucky isn’t satisfied until they’re side by side and facing each other, Steve’s head tucked under his chin, Steve’s face pressed into his neck. He can feel Steve’s breath ghost over his collarbone whenever Steve breathes, the beat of both of their hearts against his chest. He curls himself more protectively around Steve, throwing a leg over Steve’s hip and pulling him closer with an arm around his waist.

“Oh,” Bucky sighs, burying his face into Steve’s hair. “Yeah. Yeah, Stevie.”

“You’re good now?” Steve asks, grin pressed against Bucky’s skin.

“That I am. Wouldn’t move even if someone payed me.”

“Good to know I can’t count on you getting up if Lucas wakes up in the middle of the night.”

Bucky opens his eyes, pulling back so he can look down at Steve’s face. “Okay, I’ll move for that. Just keep calling my name until I wake up.”

“Noted,” Steve says, kissing Bucky’s chin. “You doing okay?”

Bucky swallows, nodding his head. “Yeah. Thanks for not pushing.”

“I’ll always listen,” Steve tells him. “But only if you wanna talk.”

Bucky cups Steve’s cheek, thumb tracing his bottom lip. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Steve says, nipping at Bucky’s finger. “Want to make out until you fall asleep?”

Bucky snorts, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Won’t take very long.”

“I don’t care. You can make it up to me on Christmas.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, leaning in to cover Steve’s lips with his own. “I will.”

Christmas with Steve and Lucas couldn’t come fast enough.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Happy Christmas, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my gift to you: holiday fluff. happy holidays, guys! :D

“Please tell me you didn’t buy the whole store.”

Bucky feels himself flush a little as he steps into Steve’s home. He pointedly doesn’t look down at the ridiculous amount of bags he’s carrying.

“Bucky.”

Bucky looks over his shoulder at Steve, who’s staring at him with his arms crossed over his chest, eyebrow raised.

“They’re not all from me,” Bucky protests, cheeks pink. “And some of this is food.”

Steve just keep staring.

“Okay, so maybe most of the presents are from me,” Bucky admits, setting some of the bags down on Steve’s couch before moving to the kitchen. He slowly starts taking some of the food he prepared before coming over and putting it in the fridge, not wanting to leave things on the counter only to have them go bad before they can eat it. “But Nat also sent some gifts along. So did Clint.”

“Oh.” Steve’s expression clears. “That’s nice of them.”

“They’re nice people,” Bucky says, closing the fridge door and then walking to the living room. He can hear Steve following, but he doesn’t look back as he takes the bag from the couch, kneels on the floor, and starts with the gifts, putting them carefully under Steve’s Christmas tree, scrunching up his nose whenever his hair gets caught in the branches. “But I can’t vouch for what they got you. Especially Clint.”

Steve snorts, walking up to Bucky and sitting down next to him. “You trying to say your gifts are the best?”

“I’m not tryin’ to say _anythin’_ ,” Bucky corrects him. “Since that’s a fact.”

Steve laughs, leaning in so he can press a kiss to Bucky’s lips. “Really, though. You didn’t have to bring all of this. Not even the food. I could’ve helped you cook something.”

“I didn’t,” Bucky tells him, handing Steve one of the presents. He points to the little card stuck on top of it. “Some of the presents are also from Santa. And if you think I’m not gonna make you help me heat up dinner and put the finishing touches, you’re dead wrong.”

Bucky watches as Steve’s face goes from amused to fond to like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing and hearing. Bucky knows what the little card says: _to Lucas, from Santa_. There are some for Steve just like that, mostly because Bucky couldn’t resist but also because he _maybe_ went a little overboard during holiday shopping and ended up with a lot more stuff than he planned.

“Bucky,” Steve says again, this time barely a rush of breath.

Bucky scoots closer, taking the gift from Steve’s hands and putting it down. He then grabs Steve’s hands in his, rubbing circles over his palms.

“This is the first time we spend Christmas together as a...,” Bucky starts,  throat closing up a little.

“As a family?” Steve offers, his own voice choked-up.

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? Steve usually knows what Bucky is trying to say before he says it. They’re on the same page about all of this, about what they want from each other, want they want of what they have together.

Bucky didn’t set out to become part of Steve’s family when he met him, but that’s what he got. That’s what ended up happening as they got to know each other, to like each other, to love each other.

Bucky can’t say that he minds. It’s the opposite of that, really. He never saw himself having anything like this in his wildest dreams, but here he is: sitting on Steve’s living room with him, surrounded by warmth and love and tiny Christmas lights, organizing the gifts he brought for the two people he loves most in the world.

Bucky nods. “So I wanna make it good,” he says. “I want— I know Lucas is young and he may not remember it later, but… I want us to look back at all of this and know we did good.”

“You want to make happy memories,” Steve whispers, fingers squeezing Bucky’s hand.

“Got a lot of shitty ones to forget.”

Steve makes a little wounded sound in the back of his throat, right before tilting his head and catching Bucky’s lips in a kiss. It’s slow and deep, filled with so much _love_ and understanding that it makes Bucky shiver and press a little closer.

“Lucas is going to take one look at all of this and cry,” Steve mumbles, bumping their noses together.

If they are happy tears, Bucky thinks he can deal with it. He also kisses Steve again, just because.

“‘S why we’re hiding the rest of them in your closet so you can give them to him on Christmas Day,” Bucky replies, dropping a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth before getting up and offering him a hand. “C’mon, help me.”

It’s only when they get to Steve’s room that Bucky sees the flaw in his plan.

“Holy _shit_.” Bucky gapes, pointing a finger at the inside of Steve’s closet. “What the fuck, Steve?”

Steve is the one turning red right now, head ducked and shoulders hunched and hands buried in his pockets. He shrugs one shoulder, looking all kinds of embarrassed.

“You’re not the only one who wanted to make this memorable.”

Bucky makes a sound between a laugh and whine, dropping his bags so he can wrap his arms around Steve and hug him tight.

“You didn’t say that because you’re mad I bought a lot of shit.” Bucky grins, enjoying the way Steve refuses to look at him, his entire face aflame. “You said that because _you_ ’re the one who _bought the entire store_.”

The pile is not even a pile. It’s a small mountain of holiday-wrapped gifts, all hidden way behind Steve’s winter clothing.

“It’s like you said,” Steve answers, resting his hands flat on Bucky’s chest. “It’s our first holiday as a family. It has to be a good one.”

Bucky swallows around a lump in his throat. He slides a hand under Steve’s shirt, skin touching skin, anchoring them both.

“It’s going to be,” Bucky tells him. “But if it’s not, there’s always next year.”

There’s a promise right there and they both know it. It makes Steve smile, slow and soft and bright, his eyes liquid.

“Next year,” Steve says, echoing Bucky and everything it means.

Bucky kisses him one more time, sealing their unspoken promise. “C’mon,” he says when he pulls back. “We better hide this before you have to go.”

“We can just call Aunt Debbie and tell her I’ll be late to picking up Lucas.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I ain’t wastin’ time with our little guy today. We don’t get Christmas Day, but we get today.”

“We get New Years, too,” Steve points out, but helps Bucky hide the rest of the presents anyway. “Don’t we?”

Bucky bumps their shoulders together. “We do,” he says. “But if by some stroke of bad luck something happens, you get yourself and Lucas away from me.”

“Same goes for me,” Steve says quietly, hand falling to Bucky’s knee and squeezing it. “We’ll check in with each other, okay? To make sure we’re doing okay. Our friends will help.”

Bucky nods, turning so he can place a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “Deal.”

They finish hiding all of the gifts by the time Steve has to go pick up Lucas from Aunt Debbie’s house. It leaves Bucky with plenty of time to start on dessert and make sure the food he’s already cooked is still good to go.

“You sure you’ll be okay?”

Bucky keeps himself from rolling his eyes, but just barely. “I think I can handle myself in the kitchen.”

“Yeah?” Steve doesn’t look that convinced.

“Oh my god,” Bucky groans, putting his hands on Steve’s shoulders and steering him to the door. “ _Go_. Pick up our kid, say hi to Debbie for me, and don’t get into an accident. I’ll have stuff ready when you two come back. Mostly.”

Steve ducks and turns around, Bucky’s hands falling from his shoulders. Which is a good thing, because then it means Bucky can brace himself on Steve’s chest when Steve kisses him full on the lips, hard and deep.

“Uh,” is all Bucky can say when Steve pulls back, heart beating fast and entire body tingling.

“I love you,” Steve replies, soft but just as intense. “I’ll be back soon. With _our_ kid.”

Bucky’s breath hitches, his stomach doing somersaults in his belly as he goes through what he’s said. Steve is just repeating the words Bucky used a minute ago: _our kid_. Two little words that mean the world for both of them.

Bucky is the one to lean in this time, closing the distance between them and pressing their mouths together and in a slow kiss that tells Steve what Bucky doesn’t know how to say.

“Love you too. Be safe.”

Steve gives him one more quick kiss before bundling up and heading out. Bucky stands alone in the middle of the living room for a few seconds, willing his heart to slow down a little. He still has a Christmas dinner to prepare, the first of what hopefully will turn out to be many holidays he’ll spend with Steve and Lucas.

His _family_.

He’s halfway done with what he needs to do by the time he hears the front door opening, the faint sounds of Steve and Lucas’s voices reaching him. He does a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure he hasn’t left anything out that Lucas might get to if he runs to the kitchen, but he does leave the gingerbread men Clint sent on top of the counter. It won’t hurt if Lucas eats a bit of it now, and Bucky is aware of how much Steve can pack away when he thinks the food is good.

“Smells good,” Steve says, smiling a little as he comes in, Lucas perched on his shoulders. “Doesn’t it, buddy?”

Lucas tugs at Steve’s hair, making him wince, but nods. “Yummy.”

“Hey.” Bucky goes to them, placing a kiss to Steve’s chin and then untangling one of Lucas’s hands from his father’s hair so Bucky can kiss his fingers. “Thanks, pal. Did you have fun at Aunt Debbie’s?”

Steve snorts. “Oh, he certainly did.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, lips twitching. “What happened?”

“Apparently someone’s been messing with the fake candy canes on Aunt Debbie’s Christmas tree,” Steve starts. “She went to take a look and it was like someone’s been chewing on a few of them and putting them back. But not all of them, just the ones about forty inches off the floor.”

Bucky bites on the inside of his cheek not to laugh, although he doesn’t think he’s very successful. “You don’t say.”

“Yup.” Steve nods. “She thought there were rats.”

Bucky can’t help himself. He lets out a laugh, shoulders shaking and eyes crinkling at the corners. Steve doesn’t seem at all amused, his lips turned down and jaw set. Bucky sees it, though, the glint behind his eyes that speaks of something entirely different.

“Pal, don’t tell me you’ve been eating your Aunt Debbie’s Christmas ornaments.”

Lucas doesn’t say anything, just rests his chin on top of Steve’s head, looking about as innocent as he possibly can with his big blue eyes and fair hair.

“I think he thought they were real,” Steve offers, raising his arms so he can take Lucas’s off his shoulders and set him on his high chair. “Can’t really fault him for that.”

“I can fix that,” Bucky says, going through one of the bags in the counter and coming back holding a candy cane. He offers it to Lucas. “Here. I promise this one’s not plastic.”

Lucas frowns down at it, suspicion clear on his face. He slowly reaches forward and grabs it, bringing it close to his face so he can sniff it. Bucky and Steve both watch him, not bothering to hide their smiles. Especially when Lucas sticks his tongue out and gives the candy cane a tentative lick, as if trying to figure out if it’s really candy and not something else.

“Oh, candy!” Lucas perks up, now happily stuffing half of the candy into his mouth.

Bucky huffs out a laugh, ruffling Lucas’s hair. “At least you were cautious.”

“He’s a man who learns from his mistakes,” Steve says proudly, and then perks up much like Lucas did when he catches sight of the counter. “Oh, gingerbread.”

Bucky stares at them, both father and son, warmth blooming in his chest.

Who would've thought? Former sniper James Buchanan Barnes, highly trained killer and the nightmare of many men, falling more and more in love with a former army Captain and his two year old son, both who are currently stuffing their faces with Christmas treats.

No one, that’s who.

Well, not really. Bucky hoped, but it still surprises him that he actually _has_ this, what he’s been wanting for so long. So much so that he takes a second to watch them, lips curling up in a soft smile.

“Hey,” Bucky says, heart melting in his chest when both Lucas and Steve look up at him. “I love you.”

Steve smiles back, just a quirk of his lips, his mouth too full of gingerbread for him to answer. Not that he needs to.

Not when Lucas is the one who says, “Love you, Bucky.”

Bucky is glad he’s standing near the counter, because his knees almost buckle at those words. He braces one hand on the countertop, eyes wide and heart doing flips in his chest as he looks back at Lucas. He doesn’t even notice Steve getting up, only realizes Steve is not sitting by Lucas anymore when he feels an arm snake around his waist, his side pressing to Steve’s chest.

“Buck.” Steve’s voice is low, rough, and _heavy_ with meaning, his breath ghosting over the side of Bucky’s face. “ _Bucky._ ”

“Did he really…?” Bucky trails off, eyes still glued to Lucas, who’s staring back at them with a little frown on his face and half a candy cane stuck in his mouth.

“Yeah, Buck, he did.”

Bucky takes in a shaky breath and lets it out slowly, resting one hand on Steve’s arm. “Shit,” Bucky says weakly, fingers curling and gripping his sweater.

“Shit!” Lucas repeats, popping the candy out of his mouth. “Shit, shit.”

“Thanks a lot, Bucky,” Steve sighs, pressing his forehead against Bucky’s temple.

And that’s when Bucky starts laughing, loud and giddy and like he’s never going to stop. He drags Steve with him to Lucas’s high chair, not hesitating before he picks Lucas up and throws him in the air before catching him again. Lucas yelps and then starts laughing, his candy cane still firmly in his hand.

“Bucky,” Steve tries to protests, but they both know his heart isn’t in it.

Bucky just beams, hugging Lucas to him and pressing kisses all over his face. He doesn’t even mind when Lucas gets one of his sticky hands into his hair, trying to reciprocate as he lands wet kisses on Bucky’s cheeks. Bucky just accepts it. To him, those are the best kisses in the whole world.

“What about me?” Steve asks, and when Lucas and Bucky glance at him they see he’s pretending to pout. “Don’t I get kisses?”

“Yes, Daddy!” Lucas answers, grabbing one of Steve’s ears and pulling him forward, peppering his face with kisses.

Bucky isn’t that far behind, laughing along with Steve when they get smacked in the face with Lucas’s candy cane. “You get as many kisses as you want, sweetheart.”

Steve replies by taking Bucky’s chin in hand and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Love you, Buck.”

“Love you too, Stevie.” Bucky turns to Lucas, tickling his side before kissing his forehead. “Love you too, Lucas. Both of you.”

“Me too,” Lucas says, throwing his arms around their necks and giving them a hug.

“This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” Bucky tells them, pulling both Steve and Lucas closer to him.

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, squeezing Bucky’s hip. “Me too.”

“Me— oh.” There’s the sound of something falling to the floor, and then Lucas is looking down at his now empty hands and frowning. “Shit,” he says, glancing down at his candy cane. “Damn, damn, damn.”

Bucky snorts out a laugh while Steve glances up, as if asking for strength.

And what did Bucky say?

_Best. Christmas. Ever._

* * *

 

Steve kind of feels like he’s going to burst, both from eating too much of Bucky’s delicious food and from how _happy_ he is.

It fills him with a sense of peace, watching Bucky and Lucas interact as they move to the living room. Bucky’s eyes shine whenever Lucas laughs or tugs at his mental fingers, his lips curled up in a smile. Steve doesn’t think Bucky’s stopped smiling since that moment in the kitchen, filled with kisses and love and candy canes.

“Oh, woah,” Lucas says, for the first time noticing all of the presents sitting under the tree. His eyes are wide and he’s blinking rapidly, like he can’t quite make sense of all that he’s seeing. “Woah, down,” he pats at Bucky’s arm. “Bucky, _down_.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky drawls, hugging Lucas close to him. “I think I’ll keep you here.”

Lucas makes an annoyed little sound in the back of his throat and starts squirming, little fingers poking at Bucky’s forearm. “ _No_. Keep bad. Down, Bucky. _Please_.”

“Keep bad?” Bucky gasps, and Steve knows he’s fighting back another smile when Lucas nods vehemently. “Alright, then,” Bucky says, setting Lucas down. “Go on, pal.”

Lucas practically runs to the tree once he’s on the floor, stopping abruptly just short of getting his hands on any of it. He stares at the small pile of gifts and blinks, little hands curling and uncurling at his sides.

“Woah,” Lucas says again, slowly making his way around the Christmas tree, eyes wide and reflecting the tiny dots of the white Christmas lights.

“I told you he wouldn’t know what to do with any of this,” Steve mutters, getting an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and pulling him to his side.

“You said he would cry,” Bucky corrects, snaking an arm around Steve’s waist, hands slipping under Steve’s sweater. “So far I see no tears.”

No sooner are those words out of Bucky’s mouth that Lucas appears from behind the tree, chin trembling and eyes wet.

“Oh, shit,” Bucky says, body tensing as he panics.

“Shh,” Steve quiets him, squeezing the back of Bucky’s neck.

“Me?” Lucas asks, one hand pointing at his chest while the other points at all the presents. “All me?”

“Most of them, yeah.” Steve slides his hand down Bucky’s back and tangles their hands together, pulling Bucky along as he walks up to Lucas. “Want to see what gifts Santa brought to you, bud?”

Lucas takes in a shaky breath and nods, and Steve doesn’t waste any time before he’s sitting on the floor. He tugs Bucky along, who still looks kind of panicked, jaw tight and lips pressed in a thin line as if he’s waiting for something bad to happen.

“Buck, why don’t you help me with the presents?” Steve suggests, opening his arms when Lucas flops down on his lap, eyes glued to the Christmas tree.

“You good, little guy?” Bucky asks Lucas, tickling his socked foot.

“Good,” Lucas says, and goes as far as giving Bucky the thumbs up.

Steve hides his smiles against the top of Lucas’s head, pressing a kiss to his hair. Bucky even cracks a smile, posture relaxing a little.

“You ready for this?” Bucky hits his closed fist against Lucas’s one, face softening when Luas opens his palm and rests his hand on top of Bucky’s.

“Daddy?”

“Right here, Lucas,” Steve tells him, pressing his hand to Lucas’s chest, his son’s heartbeat under his fingers.

“Okay.” Lucas takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay.”

“He looks like he’s ready to march,” Bucky comments, shaking his head a little.

“He’s overwhelmed,” Steve offers, watching as Bucky starts separating the presents into three piles. “Last time I saw him like this was when Sam was trying out new cupcake recipes. We got to his house and he had trays of cupcakes _everywhere_. Lucas took one look at all of it and started crying. Didn’t you, buddy?”

“Cupcakes good,” Lucas sniffs, eyes following Bucky’s movements.

“I bet.” Bucky makes a show of picking up another gifts and checking the little card that came with it. “Hmmm, another one for Lucas, from _Santa_.”

Lucas gasps, leaning forward on Steve’s lap, eyes going round as he watches Bucky set _another_ presents to the other three already put aside for him.

“He’s going to grow up so spoiled,” Steve sighs.

“Nah, he won’t,” Bucky answers. “We won’t let him.”

Steve’s heart all but melts into his chest. He doesn’t have to go look in a mirror to know he looks exactly like he feels, his eyes turning liquid and the most besotted smile forming on his lips. Bucky notices it, too, because he presses one of his foot against Steve’s knee, offering him a smile of his own.

Lucas has a pile with about six or seven presents once they’re done, all wrapped in shiny Christmas-themed wrapping paper and with bows on top. Steve and Bucky both have piles of their own, but theirs consists of only a couple of gifts. The rest of the gifts are hiding in Steve’s closet, and he’ll make sure to set everything under the tree for Christmas Day, but right now what they have is this, which, to Steve, is already enough.

“You ready to open your presents, Lucas?” Steve asks his son, sliding his hand up and down Lucas’s chest.

Lucas nods, leaving Steve’s lap so he can go to his pile of gifts. He stops in front of it, hands extended, looking from one present to the next and back again like he has no idea where to start. Which is probably why he sits on the floor, lets his hands fall to his side, and bursts into tears.

“Oh, hey, buddy, it’s okay.” Steve goes to him, picking Lucas up and cupping the back of his head. “You don’t know where to start, huh?”

Lucas just hiccups a sob, fat tears running down his cheeks.

“Here, pal,” Bucky says, crawling so he’s sitting right beside them and grabbing one of the gifts right from the top of the pile. “How about I open this one with you, huh? Is that okay? Will you help me?”

Lucas sniffs, chin trembling. He hides his face on Steve’s chest, rubbing his cheek against Steve’s sweater before looking up at Bucky again. “Help,” he says, and then turns back to Steve. “Don’t let go.”

“I won’t,” Steve promises, kissing the top of his head.

“Alright. How about we dry your face first?” Bucky carefully and gently wipes Lucas’s tears away with his thumbs. Lucas wraps his fingers around Bucky’s metal wrist and holds Bucky’s palm to his face, still sniffing a little. “Better?”

Lucas nods, then makes grabby hands for his gift. “Help.”

“Why don’t you pull out the bow, bud?” Steve suggests. “Then Bucky can help you unwrap it.”

Lucas does, with a little help from Steve, ending up with a red and gold bow in his hands.

“Wanna see what Santa got you?” Bucky asks, pulling away at the wrapping paper.

“No.”

“I— What?”

Both Steve and Bucky glance down at Lucas, who’s staring in fascination at the bow he’s holding. He’s poking at and squeezing it, watching the bow crinkle and sparkle in his hands.

“This?” Lucas lifts his hands up so it’s under Steve’s nose.

“The bow?” Steve blinks.

“Bow,” Lucas repeats slowly. “Bow. More bow.”

“You want more bows?”

Lucas leans forward, once again making grabby hands but this time for the other presents. “Bows.”

Bucky slowly pushes the pile in Lucas’s direction, exchanging a confused look with Steve. Steve just shrugs. He’s not going to try and explain whatever it is Lucas finds himself amazed with. He’s just glad it’s a Christmas bow and not sticking his fingers into sockets or trying to climb the bookshelves like when he learned how to walk.

“Help,” Lucas tells them, tapping the back of Steve’s hand.

Bucky and Steve help him gather all the bows, Bucky going as far as sticking one in the middle of Lucas’s chest. Lucas looks down at it, poking at the blue bow and grinning.

“You like it?” Bucky asks, smiling a lopsided smile.

“Pretty.”

“That it is,” Bucky agrees, and picks one of _his_ gifts so he can take off the bow and sticky it to the top of his head. “How about me? Do I look pretty?”

Lucas laughs, leaning back against Steve’s chest. “Yeah.”

“What do you think, Stevie?”

“You’re the prettiest guy in the whole wide world, Buck,” Steve drawls, teasing but still honest, and smiles when Bucky blushes.

“I don’t know,” Bucky answers, smirking a little. “Think you got me beat on that one.”

Steve is the one whose cheeks heat up this time, pale skin turning a soft pink.

“Daddy,” Lucas interrupts them, lifting up a hand and waving a bow in front of Steve’s fave. “You too.”

“Oh, I get a bow too?” Steve ducks his head, lips curling up when Lucas sticks one of the bows right in the middle of his forehead. “Thank you, son.”

“See?” Bucky says, his smirk turning into a grin. “I got nothin’ on you.”

“Shuddup,” Steve mumbles, the ends of the bow tickling his nose. He moves it so it’s sticky on the top of his head, much like Bucky’s. “Don’t you want to open your presents now, Lucas?”

Lucas looks up from the bows to Steve to the still wrapped gifts in front of him and then shrugs. “Okay.”

“Ah, such enthusiasm,” Bucky deadpans. “I’ve never seen a kid so excited to get their Christmas gifts before.”

“Maybe he’ll get excited once he sees what you got him.”

Bucky glares at him. “You mean what _Santa_ got him.”

Steve bites down on his bottom lip not to smile. “Sure, Bucky. What _Santa_ got him.”

Steve and Bucky start unwrapping Lucas’s presents, which brings Lucas’s attention to them. Bucky perks up once Lucas starts helping out, opening boxes and taking out toys and babbling excitedly whenever he finds something he likes.

“Daddy!” Lucas yells as he starts to unbox one of his gifts, making little frustrated noises in the back of his throat.

“Here.” Steve helps him get the box open, Bucky holding the flaps so Lucas can stick his hand inside it and grab what’s in it.

“Daddy! Dino!”

“I see that,” Steve says, watching as Lucas hugs a plastic T-Rex to his chest, his face the picture of childish glee. “I guess Santa knew just what to get you.”

Bucky shrugs when Steve glances at him. “Guess he did. You like it, pal?”

Lucas doesn’t answer, too busy sliding off Steve’s lap and to the floor, playing with his new dinosaur and trying to make one of the bows stick to his tail.

“I think that answers your question,” Steve replies.

“Want to open your present now?”

“Can I?”

Bucky nods, taking Steve’s gift and handing it to him.

Steve checks the card first, lips turning down. “Mine doesn’t say it’s from Santa.”

Bucky huffs, poking Steve on the side. “But it does say it’s from _me_. Y’know, your boyfriend?”

“Not as good as Santa,” Steve complains.

Bucky gapes at him, offended. And then next thing Steve knows he has Bucky’s hand on the back of his neck and Bucky’s lips pressed to his, kissing him slowly and throughly and until he’s dazed and breathless.

“Still not as good as Santa?” Bucky asks when he pulls back, voice low and rough.

“Uh,” is all Steve can say, lips tingling.

“Thought so.” Bucky presses another quick kiss to Steve’s lips, looking all kinds of smug. “Now open your present.”

Steve does as he’s told, carefully unwrapping his gift to reveal what looks like a leather bound notebook. He blinks at it, fingers tracing the edges.

“Open it,” Bucky tells him, poking him in the knee.

Steve makes a face at him but does, breath catching in his throat. Staring back at him is a picture of him, Bucky, and Lucas, the three of them squished together in a booth at Aunt Debbie’s diner. Lucas is in the middle of the two of them, and Steve knows his little feet planted on his and Bucky’s thighs, even though it doesn’t show in the picture. They’re all smiling, cheeks touching, the corners of Lucas’s mouth covered in ketchup.

The next pages are all filled with pictures and pictures of the three of them, both together and apart. Steve sees his own face smiling in countless different ways, his joy at being with his son and Bucky so obviously reflected back at him. He sees _love:_ growing, changing, transforming. He sees his present and what he hopes his future will bring.

“Buck,” Steve says, voice thick.

“You like it?” Bucky asks tentatively, biting down on his bottom lip.

Steve swallows past the lump in his throat, closing the album. “I love it,” he says, looking up at Bucky, eyes a little wet. “Thank you.”

“Happy Christmas, sweetheart.”

Steve makes a little sound in the back of his throat and leans in, cupping Bucky’s cheek in one hand as he kisses him. Bucky opens up to him, sweet and pliant, softly moving his lips against Steve’s own.

“Love you,” Steve murmurs, kissing Bucky once more. “And I think we got the same idea.”

“Huh?”

Steve leans back, giving Bucky his present. “See for yourself.”

Bucky frowns at him but takes the gift. His jaw goes slack when he sees what it is, grey-blue eyes widening.

“Steve,” Bucky whispers. “When did you…”

“Some of it was from memory,” Steve says, glancing down at his drawing. “Mostly I used a few pictures Natasha took for reference.”

“This is—,” Bucky shakes his head, entranced. “Stevie, this is beautiful.”

“Buck,” Steve says, cheeks pink.

“It is,” Bucky insists. “I’m tellin’ you, this is amazing.”

“See?” Lucas asks, crawling to them, dinosaur toy still clutched in his hand.

“Yeah, pal.” Bucky lowers the drawing of himself, Steve, and Lucas at the park, sitting on their favorite spot, all sporting wide smiles and looking impossibly happy with themselves. “Lookit.”

“Me!” Lucas points at himself in the picture.

“Yeah, that’s you.” Bucky smiles. “Your Daddy drew it. Looks beautiful, doesn’t it?”

Lucas nods, smiling back.

“I—,” Steve ducks his head, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Thanks.”

“No,” Bucky tells him. “Thank _you_. I’m gonna keep it in my room. Gonna look at it whenever I’m away from my best guys.”

Steve huffs, resting his temple against Bucky’s. “ _Bucky_.”

“I _am_ ,” Bucky says, tilts his head to the side, their noses bumping together. “You can’t stop me. I think I’m even gonna take a picture of it so I can show it to the girls and my Ma. It’s that good.”

Steve sighs, hiding his face against the side of Bucky’s neck. “Do you hafta?”

“They’re already half in love with you,” Bucky informs him. “The guy who got me to settle down and look less like I’m about to murder everyone. And now they’re gonna see you’re an _artist_? This is only gonna make them like you more. My Ma will probably try to commission a Barnes family portrait.”

Steve frowns. “You don’t look like you’re going to murder everyone.”

“Be happy,” Lucas says, reaching out so he can pat Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky pretends to chew at his fingers, making Lucas crawl away from them and hide behind the Christmas tree.

“And I could paint a Barnes family portrait, I guess,” Steve muses out loud. “But I wouldn’t charge your mom.”

“Do _not_ , oh my god,” Bucky groans, pressing the tips of two fingers against Steve’s lips. “Don’t even say it. Ma might be able to hear you.”

“All the way from Indiana?”

“She’s got a sixth sense about stuff that’s goin’ to embarrass me.”

Steve laughs a little. “That’s parenthood for you.”

“Guess I’ll figure it out, huh?” Bucky asks, face softening as he glances at Lucas, who’s now currently lying down on the floor under the Christmas tree, staring up at the ornaments and Christmas lights and babbling to his dinosaur.

“Yup.” Steve nuzzles their noses together. “You will.”

Bucky smiles, big and wide and bright, looking so gorgeous that all Steve can do is close the distance between them and kiss him.

“You were right,” Steve starts, smiling back.

“I’m always right,” Bucky huffs, and then adds, “About what?”

“This is the best Christmas I ever had.”

And that is still true when Lucas runs and throws himself at them, landing half on top of Steve and half on top of Bucky, his plastic dinosaur hitting Steve straight on the throat.

“Oops,” Lucas says, staring up at him with big blue eyes when Steve chokes and starts coughing.

“Oops is right.” Bucky frowns, rubbing circles against Steve’s injured neck. “You alright, sweetheart?”

Steve coughs once more and swallows, giving him the thumbs up. “I’m okay,” he says, voice cracking.

He then feels a wet kiss press to his cheek. “All good now,” Lucas says, patting Steve on the chest. “Shhh.”

“Thanks, Lucas.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, placing a kiss to Steve’s other cheek, his metal hand squeezing Steve’s hip. “Everything’s good now.”

Steve smiles at them and can’t help but agree.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’ll work on it, huh?” Bucky asks him between giggles, bouncing Lucas in his arm, his other one around Steve’s shoulders. “What do you say, Stevie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> extra-long chapter because i don't think i'll be able to post the epilogue in a timely manner. 
> 
> i hope all of you have a wonderful start of the new year, with lots of happiness and cuddles and stevebucky. :* <3

Bucky gets to his apartment and falls face first into his bed, the ever-present tension on his shoulders finally seeping away for the first time since he left the city to go visit his family.

It’s not that he doesn’t love them, because he does. But his mother and sisters have a way of chirping at him until all he wants to do is run and hide under his bed, away from all the noise and comments and well-meaning but still _prying_ questions. He can't count the number of times his Ma made a comment about him and Steve and _the little family_ they're building, or when one of his sisters asked him if Steve’s as good in the sack as he looks.

Not that Bucky would really know. They haven't done much. But then again, all the little things they have done have been _spectacular._

He thought something might happen during their Christmas Day together, but after playing with Lucas the rest of the night, eating their weights in Christmas candy, and drinking cider, all they had the energy to do was change into their pjs, get into bed, cuddle, and sleep. Which, all in all, was amazing. But still.

Bucky’s in not in a hurry, though. He has no problem waiting until they both reach a point where they're comfortable going forward in that aspect of their relationship. And he knows Steve feels the same way.

Bucky shifts on his bed, eyes opening and falling on the framed drawing he got as a gift from Steve, his lips twitching up as they always do when he glances at it. He misses Steve and Lucas, felt like hell being away from them the last few days, but he needs some time to regroup, to decompress, to settle into his own skin again.

His phone is still in his pocket since he hasn't bothered to undress. He wiggles a little until he can get his fingers around it, thumbing the screen and opening the messaging app.

 _I’m officially back_ , Bucky types and hits send. Not even a minute later his phone chimes with an answer.

 

**Steve [3:17 PM]**

_Want to come over? We miss you._

 

The text is accompanied by a picture of Steve and Lucas sitting on the floor of their home, their Christmas tree behind them. Lucas is frowning at the camera, bangs falling into his eyes, the dinosaur Bucky bought him clutched to his chest. Steve, on the other hand, is resting his chin on top of Lucas’s head and outright _pouting_ , pink lips pursed and eyes sad.

Bucky makes a little distressed noise in the back of his throat, turning on his back and lifting his phone in front of him. He saves the picture into the folder that is absolutely not dedicated only to pictures of him, Steve, and Lucas.

 

**Bucky [3:19 PM]**

_i miss you too._

**Bucky [3:19 PM]**

_and maybe tomorrow? need some time to recharge._

 

**Steve [3:19 PM]**

_Yeah, Bucky, whatever you need. We’ll be waiting for you. <3_

 

Bucky lets out a sigh, the last traces of tension finally leaving him as he sends his own _< 3_ to Steve. He kills another fifteen minutes in bed, checking his emails and just letting himself enjoy the blissful silence of his apartment, before getting up and making the rounds to make sure Clint and Natasha didn’t leave him any unfortunate surprises around the place again.

He’ll never forgive them for the fish behind his toilet. Or for all of his socks ending up in the freezer. Or for baby proofing his entire apartment that one time. Nevermind that he got them back.

Okay, so he got Clint back. He wouldn’t mess with Natasha even if someone paid him to.

To say Bucky is expecting the worst when he finds a Christmas card with _Happy Holidays, loser_ written on it in red glitter stuck to his fridge is an understatement. He grabs one of his kitchen knives and a dish towel in case something jumps at him, opening the fridge and quickly stepping aside, taking protection behind the door. He blinks when nothing happens, slowly straightening up and taking a peek inside his fridge.

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Bucky grins at the _huge_ red velvet cake staring back at him, little chocolate reindeers adorning the sides. “Happy Holidays to me.”

Another note falls to the floor when Bucky grabs the cake, which he quickly picks it up to read.

_We left presents for you. Have fun looking for them. - Clint & Nat (and Lucky)_

Bucky snorts, shaking his head fondly. Sometimes they’re a pain in his ass, but his friends are the best.

And looking around for his gifts actually manages to make him relax even more. It gives him something to focus on, something to do that is not thinking of the tears in his mother’s eyes when Bucky showed her a picture of his gift from Steve, or his sisters’s excitement and comments that maybe they’ll fly to the city more often, or his dad’s hand clasping his shoulder and holding on, a small smile on his lips.

They’re all happy for him, Bucky knows. But their happiness comes with them wanting to get _involved_ , and as much as Bucky loves them he doesn’t want their meddling. He’ll still mention to Steve his mother’s invitation to bring him next time Bucky comes, or her idea that maybe they could all travel to the city and visit _them_ if that happens to be more convenient. It's just that he's not comfortable with the idea of spending more time with them than he already does. Phone calls and Skype chats are enough for him.

At the end of his Christmas presents hunt Bucky feels almost back to his regular self, his bed covered with wrapping paper and all the knick knacks Clint and Nat bought him. His favorite is probably the small stack of crime novels, all used, their spines broken and pages yellow. His _least_ favorite is the box of extra-large condoms with a note on the box that says _to Steve_ in Clint’s messy writing.

Bucky doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at that — he just resolutely _does not_ think if Steve’s dick would fit in the condoms —, so instead he goes about saving all the bows he can find and putting them aside for Lucas. He also doesn’t waste any time starting on the red velvet cake, only stopping until there are two slices left, those which he saves for both Lucas _and_ Steve.

The rest of the day and most of the night are filled with one of his new books, Bucky slipping into one of the hoodies he stole from Steve and his favorite pair of sweats, cuddling on his bed. He feels a lot better by the time he goes to sleep than when he arrived, having this time for himself, in silence, to just be.

That still doesn’t mean Bucky doesn’t go to Steve’s right after lunch the next day, stomach flipping in excitement at getting to see his two best guys after almost a week of being away from them. Sure, he talked to Steve on the phone and they Skyped with Lucas and Steve sent him pictures of them, but still. Bucky misses them. A _lot_.

And Steve appears to feel the same way, because Bucky barely has any time to close the front door behind him before he’s being pressed against it, the air rushing out of his lungs as Steve wraps him in his arms and squeezes him until his ribs hurt.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky huffs, cupping the back of Steve’s head with one hand, the other one holding onto to the leftover cake slices. “You missed me, huh?” Steve mumbles something against the side of Bucky’s neck, breath hot and wet on Bucky’s skin. “Can’t hear you, Stevie. What did you say?”

Steve breathes in, nuzzling his nose against Bucky’s jaw before pulling back, eyes finding Bucky’s. “That was awful. Don’t leave again.”

Bucky laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re so dramatic.”

Steve just shrugs, not even denying it. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Bucky says, hand sliding through Steve’s hair and resting over the back of his neck. “C’mere.”

Steve does without protesting, lips soft and sweet when Bucky kisses him, licks his way into Steve’s mouth, taking everything he couldn’t these past few days. And Bucky missed this, _fuck_ , did he miss _this_ : the sweet little noises Steve makes when he’s being kissed like he can’t get enough of it, the warmth of Steve’s body pressed tight against his, Steve’s taste on his tongue.

“Hi,” Bucky says, nipping at Steve’s bottom lip. “I’m here.”

“You are.” Steve drops kisses to his chin, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose. “Hey.”

“I brought cake, too. And bows.”

Steve freezes with his mouth pressed to Bucky’s forehead, leaning back slowly and finally noticing one of Bucky’s hands is busy. “You what?”

“Nat and Clint left a cake in my fridge,” Bucky explains. “I brought you and Lucas a slice. And all the bows from my Christmas gifts.”

“Oh, thanks?”

Bucky snorts. “You’re welcome.”

Steve doesn’t let go of him as much as he rearranges his grip so they can both walk to the kitchen and put away the cake. Bucky smiles all the way, amused and fond and happy, kissing Steve’s cheek and jaw every couple of steps they take.

“Where’s Lucas?”

Steve presses his lips together, eyes glinting. He takes Bucky’s hand in his and leads him to the living room, pointing at a small pile of blankets and pillows and what Bucky thinks is one of his sweaters he left at Steve’s in the middle of the living room floor. There’s only the top of Lucas’s head peaking out from under it, blond hair sticking up everywhere.

“Is he okay?” Bucky whispers, dumping the bows in Steve’s couch and then leaning against Steve’s side.

“Just tired,” Steve answers. “Clint came over with Lucky today.”

“Ah,” Bucky says in understanding. “That explains it.”

“It’s good that he takes a nap now. This way he won’t be cranky tonight.”

“Everyone’s coming, then?”

Steve nods. “They are. Sam said he’d bring earplugs.”

“Sam is an actual angel from heaven,” Bucky tells him. “I’ve no doubt about it.”

Steve rolls his eyes, bringing Bucky’s hand to his lips and kissing his knuckles. “Want to take a nap?”

“Do I _ever_ ,” Bucky sighs dreamily, pulling Steve with him. “You got more blankets?”

They quietly add to the small pile surrounding Lucas, grabbing the pillows from Steve’s bed to themselves. They lie down so Lucas is in the middle, careful not to disturb him, their legs tangling together. Bucky smiles at Steve over Lucas’s head and closes his eyes, peace and contentment rushing through him.

You know, until he wakes up a certain amount of time later to the feeling of being watched and a small hand slapping his cheek.

Bucky opens one eye, lips quirking up when Lucas tilts his head down and stares at him. They’re so close their noses are almost touching, Lucas’s eyes big and blue and going a bit cross when he doesn’t break his gaze and keeps on looking. Bucky just stares back, both eyes open now. Lucas goes from slapping his cheek to almost petting him, heavy and clumsy, little fingers coming closer to hitting Bucky in the eye.

“Hi,” Lucas says loudly now that he knows for sure Bucky is awake. “Good day.”

Bucky full-on smiles at that, grabbing Lucas under his arms and hoisting him up and onto his lap at the same time he sits up. Lucas just lets him, hand falling from Bucky’s face to clutch at the collar of his shirt, the other one finding Bucky’s metal wrist and wrapping around it.

“Hey, pal. Did you have a good nap?”

Lucas nods. “You here.”

“I’m here, yeah.” Bucky swipes Lucas’s bangs off his face, placing a kiss to his forehead. “Missed you, Lucas.”

Lucas lets go of Bucky’s wrist and shirt in order to bring them to Bucky’s face again, this time to squish his cheeks together. “Me too,” Lucas says. “Hug.”

Bucky obliges, pulling Lucas closer and hugging him tight. “Is that alright? Do you want another one?”

Lucas’s answer comes in the form of him tightening his arms around Bucky’s neck, coming close to cutting off Bucky’s oxygen supply. Bucky doesn't mind. He’ll happily stop breathing if it means getting hugs from his little boy.

“Daddy?” Lucas asks, voice muffled against the side of Bucky’s neck.

“He's still asleep.” They both look down at Steve. He's on his side, mouth open as he breathes, hand reaching out between them and curled beside Bucky’s hip. “Want to wake him?”

Lucas perks up, giggling a little when Bucky shifts and holds him up, right above Steve’s chest. Bucky has to stop himself from making airplane noises, instead biting on the inside of his cheek and watching. Lucas grins, big and excited.

And then he tilts his head down and blows a raspberry right on Steve’s ear.

Steve wakes up in a flail of limbs and face twisted in a grimace, hand coming up to his ear. “What the—”

Bucky has Lucas on his lap again, both of them practically doubling over as they laugh. Bucky himself is breathless, face flushed and eyes wet, entire body shaking with mirth.

“Up, Daddy!” Lucas claps his hands. “Up, up!”

Steve just blinks at them, mouth parted, torn between laughing along and swearing at them.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Bucky grins, trying to catch him breath. “Did we wake you up?”

Steve opens and closes his mouth a few times before saying, “I know where you live.”

Bucky just blow him a kiss, which in turn makes _Lucas_ blow them another kiss. And then Bucky doesn't have to worry about Steve being angry anymore, because now they’re staring at Lucas, eyes soft and lips forming smiles.

“At least he's not tired anymore,” Steve comments, fingers running through Lucas’s sleep mussed hair.

“He's ready to party until the ball drops,” Bucky says, turning to Lucas. “Aren't you?”

“Don't know,” Lucas answers, wriggling around in Bucky’s arms in the way it means he's ready to start running around again.

“We should probably start getting ready.” Steve frowns, picking up his phone and checking the time.

“We don't need to cook anything, do we?”

Steve snorts, shaking his head. “One of the perks of being friends with both Sam _and_ Maria. They always insist on being the ones to bring the food whenever we do something like this. Get together. All of us. Something about not spoiling their stomachs with processed stuff.”

Bucky blinks. “Didn't Sam live on MREs like the rest of us?”

Steve smirks a little, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you think he insists on only eating the best kind of food there is?”

Bucky nods, understanding. “I wish Nat and Clint were like that. They just show up at my place and eat my food and never replace anything.”

“They left you a cake,” Steve points out.

“ _Once_ ,” Bucky argues.

“Cake?” Lucas asks, looking around.

Bucky presses his lips together not to laugh, while Steve scrubs a hand over his face.

“I should know better at this point,” Steve sighs, shoulders slumping.

Bucky laughs, picking Lucas up and getting up himself. He offers a hand to Steve. “C’mon, Stevie. Let's go eat something sweet.”

Steve rolls his eyes at him and stands, leaning close to Bucky and nipping at his jaw. “You're sweet enough.”

Bucky shivers, face heating up. “Shuddup.”

Steve grins at him, delighted at his reaction. “Just telling the truth, Buck.”

“Well, that can wait,” Bucky clears his throat. “We got a kid to feed and a New Year's party to host.”

“Cake,” Lucas starts chanting, clapping his hands. “Cake, cake, cake.”

“You heard the man.” Bucky smiles when Steve sighs, bouncing Lucas a little. “Cake,” he joins in. “Cake, cake, cake.”

Steve throws his hands up in surrender. Not that he seems to mind that much once he gets a look at the slices, even less so when he gets a taste. Bucky steals a bite or two from him, and Steve licks chocolate right off Bucky’s lips.

“Hmm, sweet,” Steve hums against Bucky’s lips, pulling him in for another kiss when Bucky tries to get away.

“Steve,” Bucky murmurs, which only makes Steve give him a quick kiss in response.

Lucas gets about as dirty as they thought he would, which is to say _a lot_. Bucky ends up being the one in charge of the clean up once Steve gets a call when he's about to take all as to the bathroom.

“Maria is here,” Steve informs him. “Something about the food not tasting the same if it's heat up.Gotta help her bring stuff in.”

“We’ll be fine,” Bucky tells him, shooing him off. “Won't we?”

Lucas answers by licking chocolate off his fingers, a few crumbs of cake falling on Bucky's shirt.

“You brought a change of clothes, right?” Steve asks, wincing a little.

“Yes, Steve. Now go help Maria.”

Getting Lucas cleaned up all by himself is more difficult than Bucky thought it would be. He figured someone with his background wouldn't have a lot of trouble trying to get a toddler to wash his hands and clean his face, but he didn't count on how much Lucas starts _squirming_ once Bucky turns on the water.

“How does your dad do this?” Bucky asks out loud, trying to keep Lucas still with one hand and getting soap with the other. “Does he sing to you? Does he bribe you? Is it some kind of dad magic? What?”

“No yay,” Lucas complains, scowling when Bucky gets his hands wet.

In the end Bucky manages to get Lucas clean, but at the cost of both of their shirts. Bucky looks down at their damp clothes and makes a face, which Lucas returns in kind.

“Let's go get changed, huh?”

Lucas scowls at him the entire way to his room, little arms wrapped around himself. Bucky thinks he's trying to cross his arms over his chest like Steve does when he's angry, but can't quite manage it yet. It makes him want to smile, but he thinks Lucas might not like that from him very much. At least not now.

Bucky sets Lucas on his bed, lips pressed thin when Lucas continues to scowl at him. Bucky straightens up, hands coming to rest on his hips as he regards Lucas.

“You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

Lucas just tilts his chin up, bangs falling in his eyes. He's the spit image of Steve in that moment, all righteous anger and defiance.

Bucky nods to himself, watching Lucas from the corner of his eye as he grabs the clothes Steve put aside for Lucas to wear tonight. He holds the pair of khakis and the white button down with a little dinosaur on the pocket, looking from them to Lucas and back again.

“Your dad has a lot of faith in you.”

“Good Daddy,” is all Lucas says.

Bucky’s lips twitch at that, because Lucas is right. “Alright, pal,” Bucky says, bracing himself. “Let's do this.”

Lucas doesn't actually complain much as Bucky undresses him, but as soon as he's out of his pants he tries to make a run for it. Only Bucky’s quick reflexes make him able to catch Lucas by the waist and throw him over his shoulder.

“Oh, I don't think so.”

Lucas wiggles around, slapping his hands against Bucky’s back. Bucky just catches him by an ankle and holds him upside down, remembering how much he loved when his own dad did this to him when he was little. Lucas seems to forget he's angry, at least momentarily, as he hangs from Bucky’s grip. Bucky dumps him carefully on the bed, listening to Lucas laugh when he bounces on the mattress.

After that it's only half a fight to get Lucas into his clean pants and shirt, Bucky trying to distract the little boy with the whirls and shifts of his metal arm. It works, kind of. Lucas forgets to fight him as he pokes at Bucky’s arm, but that means Bucky doesn't have as much mobility as he wants to finish dressing Lucas.

At the end of it Bucky is panting a little, sweat gathering at his temple. Lucas is in his new pants and white button down, the fabric a little bunched up at the hem. But he's clean and all buttoned up, so Bucky counts it as a win.

At least until he realizes he still needs to get Lucas to wear shoes.

“I am not going to be defeated by a two year old.” Bucky points a finger at him. Lucas just reaches a hands and holds on to Bucky’s digit. “No matter how cute you are.”

Bucky grabs Lucas’s shoes, eyes narrowed in suspicion as he gently takes hold of Lucas’s ankle. At any minute now Lucas will try to kick him in the face and run away again, he's sure of it.

Lucas blinks at him, eyes blue and innocent. Bucky isn't fooled.

Bucky very slowly and very carefully slips one of the shows on Lucas’s tiny foot, angling himself away from Lucas’s kicking-range. Nothing happens. Lucas just continues to blink at him, fingers now playing with the buttons of his shirt.

“Are you serious?” Bucky blurts out. “Clothes are the devil’s work, but shoes are okay?”

“Devil,” Lucas repeats slowly. “Devil. _Devil_.”

“Oh my god.” Bucky drops his forehead on Lucas’s knees. “Oh my _god_.”

He feels little fingers run through his hair, as if Lucas is comforting him. “Be happy,” Lucas says. “No sad.”

Bucky let's out a laugh a little on the hysterical side and lifts his head up. “What am I going to do with you?”

Lucas’s only answer is to raise his left leg, socked foot almost hitting Bucky on the nose.

Bucky laughs again, this time with a little more control of himself. “Right. Shoes it is.”

Bucky is still wearing his damp shirt when they go back to the kitchen, following the sound of voices. Maria and Steve pause their conversation when they catch sight of Bucky and Lucas, their eyes widening at the picture Bucky makes.

Steve lets out a sound that is surprisingly like choked-up laughter.

“What?” Bucky barks, depositing Lucas in his high chair.

“Nothing.” Steve shakes his head, still trying to keep himself from laughing and failing _miserably_ at it. “Nothing at all.”

“You look like you just got back from war,” Maria comments, raising an eyebrow. “Is that soap on your belt?”

“What?” Bucky looks down at himself. “Oh, damn.”

“ _Damn_ ,” Lucas repeats, looking proud of himself.

“You gave him a hard time, huh?” Maria glances down at Lucas, impressed. She lifts a hand, palm up. “Good job.”

Bucky sputters when Lucas gives her a high five, all easy smiles and shining eyes.

“Fun,” Lucas says, turning to Bucky and pointing. “Bucky fun.”

Steve loses his fight against his laughter, entire body shaking with it as he gives in. Bucky just stares at them in bafflement and then lets his shoulders slump in defeat.

“I need a drink.”

Maria, despite obviously enjoying Bucky’s pain, hands him a beer. “Barnes.”

“Hill.”

“You should go change,” she says with a smirk. “And Steve, you know the rules.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Steve is still grinning when he picks up Lucas. “Let’s go, you two.”

“Rules?” Bucky asks, letting Steve lead him out of the kitchen with a hand on his shoulder.

“No children allowed in the kitchen!” Maria throws over her shoulder at them.

“We’re not children.” Bucky frowns, and then yells back at her, “We’re not children!”

“She can’t hear you anymore,” Steve tells him, taking them to his room. “Where are your things?”

Bucky huffs, taking a sip of his beer before leaving it on top of Steve’s dresser. He also goes to Steve’s closet instead of picking up his bag from the floor. “I’m wearing one of yours. I need some comfort after trying to struggle our kid into a pair of pants.”

Steve just keeps on grinning, now sitting on his bed with Lucas in his lap. “Welcome to parenthood.”

Bucky throws one of Steve’s own sweaters at his head, aim good enough to miss Lucas getting hit. His heart tugs in his chest at Steve’s words and at the sound of Lucas’s giggles, warmth blooming in his chest. He’s so distracted by how _good_ he feels that he doesn’t think twice before taking his damp shirt off.

At least not until he hears Lucas’s voice, small and uncertain. “Bucky ouch?”

Bucky freezes in place, stomach turning into knots, Steve’s sweater bunched in his hands. He’s suddenly acutely aware of his prosthetics, the scars covering his shoulder and back, the ugliness of it all. There’s no use covering it up, not now that Lucas has seen it, but Bucky still twitches with the urge to run away and hide in the bathroom.

“Yeah, buddy,” Steve says, voice soft and sad. “A long time ago.”

Bucky slowly turns around, heart in his throat.

“Do you want us to leave?” Steve asks, one hand resting in the middle of Lucas’s chest.

Bucky shakes his head, walking up to them and then kneeling between Steve’s legs. He’s eye to eye with Lucas like this, his shoulders tense as he glances up at the little guy.

“Yeah, pal, Bucky ouch,” Bucky says, fingers tightening around Steve’s sweater still in his hands. “I was walking and there was a really loud noise and a bright light and I got hurt.” Bucky takes in a deep breath and lets it go slowly, centering himself. “But I’m better now. It almost doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Bucky doesn’t look at Steve as he talks. He doesn’t want to see the sympathy or understanding in his eyes, at least not at the moment. He just keeps staring at Lucas, who’s frowning at him, lips turning down.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, kid?”

Lucas makes grabby hands at him. Bucky blinks, but leans forward.

He’s not expecting Lucas to brace his little hands on Bucky’s messed up shoulder and place a kiss on the worst of the scarring. “All good now,” Lucas says, satisfied.

Bucky can’t, feel it, not really, the scars making the entire area numb. But the simplicity of the gesture brings tears to his eyes and laughter to bubble up in his chest.

“Thank you,” Bucky says, heartfelt, dropping his own kiss to Lucas’s forehead.

“Good?” Lucas asks, as if to make sure.

“All good now,” Bucky repeats.

He looks up to Steve, stomach flipping at all the love and pride and happiness he finds clear as day on Steve’s face. He goes up to his knees, hand coming around the back of Steve’s neck, pulling him down to a kiss.

“All good now,” Bucky murmurs against Steve’s mouth, kissing him again, once, twice, three times. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Love you three,” Lucas pipes up.

Bucky and Steve laugh, squishing Lucas’s cheeks between kisses.

Just then the doorbell rings, followed by loud voices when Maria opens the door. Bucky pulls back and gets up, slipping Steve’s red sweater on and smoothing it down.

“You ready?” Steve asks him, taking Bucky’s hand in his.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, squeezing their hands together.

He feels ready for anything the world might bring. 

 

* * *

 

All Steve wants to do is hug Bucky to him and never let go.

He wasn’t ready to miss Bucky as much as he did these past few days while Bucky was away. It was a surprise to him, the way he felt: like something vital was missing.

He also wasn’t ready for what Bucky said to Lucas in their room, the simple way Bucky explained how he got hurt. That was the first time Steve heard Bucky talk about what happened to him, even though he had a good idea about how Bucky lost his arm.

So all Steve wants to do right now is wrap Bucky in his arms, chase the bad memories away, keep him safe.

He can’t, though, at least not right now. They have friends to talk to and food to eat and the New Year to celebrate. So Steve settles for snaking an arm around Bucky’s waist and leaving it there, basking in the warmth of Bucky’s body pressed tight to his own.

“Hey, guys.” Sam tilts his chin up at them when he sees them, balancing at least four different tupperwares filled with baked goods in his arms. “Bye, guys.”

“Bye, Uncle Sam!” Lucas waves, making Steve laugh.

Bucky frowns. “Why is he allowed in the kitchen?”

“Because he’s Maria’s favorite,” Steve explains.

“I bet Sam is a lot of people’s favorites.”

“Not mine,” Steve says, kissing Bucky in the cheek.

“Not mine,” Lucas repeats, kissing _Steve_ ’s cheek.

Bucky grins, tickling Lucas’s chin. “You got that right, pal.”

“I’m hurt,” Sam says from behind them, all mock offense. “And I even brought you ear plugs. You know, just in case.”

Sam shakes the little bag in front of them, snatching it up before Lucas can reach up and take it.

“Here,” Bucky says, bumping his beer against Sam’s chest. “I’ll trade you.”

“This is open,” Sam answers, blinking down at the bottle. “You put your mouth on it already. There are Bucky cooties in this.”

“Bucky doesn’t have cooties,” Steve defends, grabbing the ear plugs from Sam while he’s distracted. “And you’ve put worse things in your mouth.”

Bucky’s eyebrows climb almost up to his hairline at that, eyes glinting. “Do tell.”

“Do _not_.” Sam narrows his eyes at Steve. “I have dirt on you to fill up two lifetimes. Don’t make me use it.”

“Dirt bad,” Lucas tells them.

Steve opens and closes his mouth a few times, not knowing what to say.

“Having your own kid throw your words back at you.” Sam shakes his head. “That’s harsh, man.”

“Steve’s too good of a dad,” Bucky sighs, lips twitching up at the corners. “It was bound to come back and bite him in the ass.”

“Ass,” Lucas says, poking Steve in the chest. “Ass, ass.”

Steve’s shoulders slump, and he drops his forehead to rest on top of Lucas’s head. “I don’t know why I even try.”

Sam and Bucky laugh at him, clapping him on the shoulder.

“I have to go back to the kitchen,” Sam says, waggling his eyebrows. “Maria needs me.”

“Don’t do weird things in my kitchen,” Steve says, wrinkling his nose.

Sam just grins at him and leaves, a skip on his step.

“Sam and Maria are together?” Bucky asks, gaping a little.

“I wouldn’t say together,” Steve starts. “Just sharing their mutual love for food and, uh…,” Steve looks down at Lucas, pressing one hand to his ear and bringing Lucas’s head to his chest. “S-E-X.”

Bucky smiles at him, soft and warm and fond. “I think the point of spelling it out is that you don’t have to cover his ears.”

“He’s smart,” Steve says, preening a little. “He might figure it out.”

They glance down at Lucas, watching as he pulls his button down up to his face, pink tongue sticking out as he tries to lick at the buttons of his shirt. Bucky grins at both of them, using his metal fingers to push Lucas’s tongue back into his mouth.

“Better keep that inside, kiddo,” Bucky warns him. “You shouldn’t go around licking strange stuff. Might get yourself stuck on something.”

“There’s a story there, huh?”

Bucky just shrugs and smirks at him. “Hey, Lucas,” he says, taking Lucas from Steve. “I’ve got something for you.”

Bucky sits them down on the couch, the abandoned bag of bows he brought with him at their side. Steve takes his place on his favorite armchair and watches them, lips forming a smile at the way Lucas gasps and squeals and practically throws himself inside the bag when he catches sight of all the colorful and shiny bows.

Steve takes a minute to appreciate how lucky he is, how different his life is now that he has Bucky to share it with.

He refuses to admit it to anyone but himself — although he’s sure Sam is well aware of it —, but he’d settled for the idea that he’d gotten everything he was going to get from life: a job he likes, a good home, great friends, and a son he loves more than anything in the world. He wasn’t expecting anything else to happen, wasn’t expecting anyone else to come into his life and turn it upside down. He wasn’t expecting _Bucky_ to show up and shatter all of his ideas of what his future would be like.

Steve never thought he’d feel this level of happiness and joy on a daily bases. He was ready to continue living a good and quiet life, just him and Lucas. But Bucky rushed in and showed Steve just what he was missing. And Steve’s never been more grateful for allowing himself to give them a chance. Because being with Bucky surpassed all of his expectations of what his life would be like after he had Lucas, and Steve loves everything there is about it.

And he wants it forever.

Just this.

The three of them, together, laughing and joking and happy.

“Your Daddy is looking kinda glum, don’t you think?” Bucky scratches at his chin, exchanging a glance with Lucas. “We better do something about it.”

Steve regards them with suspicious eyes when Bucky gets up, Lucas in his arms. But he doesn’t complain or move away when Lucas places a kiss to his forehead and gifts him with a bow stuck to his head, just like Christmas.

“There you go.” Bucky nods, satisfied. “Can’t be sad when he looks so pretty, can he?”

“Be happy,” Lucas tells him, patting Steve on the cheek.

Steve bites at Lucas’s fingers, barely there presses of teeth, laughing when Lucas starts yelling and asking Bucky to help him.

“No, Daddy!” Lucas tries to get his hand back, but Steve holds on and starts making his way up Lucas’s arm. “Help! Bucky, _help_!”

“Oh, no! Daddy’s turned into a monster!” Bucky gasps.

“ _A monster_?” Steve mouths at Bucky, but continues to pretend he’s trying to chew Lucas’s fingers. “Hmmm, what do we have here?” Steve grins at Lucas, blowing a raspberry into his palm. “I think I’ve found my dinner!”

Lucas laughs and makes to get away, turning and trying to climb over Bucky’s shoulder.

“I’ll help you, Lucas. Hold on!” Bucky secures him with an arm around his waist, his other hand going to the bag of bows. “I think I’ve found his weakness.”

Steve has his mouth open to protest, but before he can say anything Bucky is sticking a bow right over his chin. He splutters, the top of the bow tickling his nose and making his sneeze.

“Ha!” Bucky barks. “C’mon, help me take him down.”

Steve makes a feeble attempt at defending himself once Bucky and Lucas start throwing and sticking bows on him. But when he hears Lucas’s delighted laughter and Bucky encouraging him to fight the monster so he can get his dad back, all he can do is let them win.

“Ugh, no,” Steve groans, clutching at his chest. He slides to his knees, sprawling on his back on the floor. “I’ve been defeated.” He makes a few gurgling noises to make sure he sells it, and then lets out another deep groan before closing his eyes and going limp.

“We did it, Lucas!” Bucky crows. “We fought the monster!”

Steve opens his eyes to a slit and almost starts laughing at the sight.

Bucky has Lucas over his shoulders, hands holding on to Lucas’s knobbly knees. Bucky is doing some kind of victory dance that involves a lot of hip movements and stomping on the floor and moving his head back and forth. Lucas, for his turn, has his arms raised over his head, swinging them from one side and then to the other, giving the world a thumbs up. They both look so incredibly pleased with themselves that Steve kind of just wants to freeze time around them, to keep them all like this.

In the end, he doesn’t need to, though.

Because as soon as Bucky starts another victory dance, someone starts clapping.

Bucky stops so abruptly that Lucas almost slides right off his shoulders, only his quick reflexes keeping the little boy in place. And Steve gets up so fast he thinks his back cracks, gaze turning to where the sound came from only to make him freeze in place.

Maria, Sam, Natasha, Clint, Tony and Pepper are all staring at them with various degrees of happiness and amusement on their faces. Steve doesn’t even know when the rest of them got here, didn’t even hear the doorbell ring or the sound of their voices. Even Lucky is with them, sitting beside Clint, tongue lolling out in a doggy smile.

Clint is the one clapping, looking like Christmas has come twice in one year and this time bringing more presents. Both Natasha and Tony have their phones out, undoubtedly recording everything and already compiling a list of names they’ll send the video to. Maria and Pepper both look like they’re fighting back smiles, but are failing miserably. Sam is just beaming. Not saying anything, just beaming like all of this dreams have come true.

“Hi!” Lucas yells, breaking the silence and waving at all of them.

“This is the best thing that has ever happened to me,” Tony says, lowering his phone. “I mean it. Thank you, Steve, for this wonderful gift.”

Steve’s entire face heats up, and when he looks up at Bucky is to find him as red as a tomato.

“I sent this to your sister,” Natasha tells Bucky. “And I’m not sorry.”

Bucky makes a distressed noise in the back of his throat, taking Lucas off his shoulders and perching him on his hip. “It’s been nice knowing you, pal,” Bucky says, swallowing hard. “But I’m gonna throw myself out the window now.”

“Oh, no you’re not,” Steve hisses, getting up. “You’re not leaving me alone with them. ‘Til the end of the line, remember?”

Bucky blinks at him, expressions softening. “Yeah, Stevie. ‘Til the end of the line.”

“So.” Tony claps his hands together, taking a step forward. “Now that my entire _next_ year has been made, how are we all doing?” he asks, not bothering waiting for an answer before he’s reaching for Bucky’s metal arm. “And how’s the arm? Is it giving you any trouble? I can fix it. Better yet, I can build you a new one. Maybe add some gadgets?” Tony glances down at the mess on the floor. “Or some bows? Whatever floats your boat.”

“ _Tony_ ,” Pepper and Steve say at the same time.

Tony ignores Steve’s warning, but turns to Pepper with a frown. “But I—”

“This is not the time,” Pepper says, taking a step forward and putting a hand on his shoulder. She offers the other one to Bucky. “We haven’t been officially introduced. Pepper Potts.”

“My wife,” Tony informs, preening. “She married me. There are no take backs.”

Pepper gives Tony a fond smile, which he returns.

Bucky shakes her hand. “Bucky Barnes, ma’am. Pleasure to meet anyone who can handle Tony Stark.”

“Hey,” Tony protests, glaring at Bucky.

“Uncle Spark,” Lucas says, reaching out and touching Tony’s goatee. “Be happy.”

Steve has to bite down on the inside of his cheek not to laugh whenever Lucas calls Tony Uncle _Spark_. He doesn’t know where the nickname came from, only that Lucas refuses to call Tony anything else.

“Uncle Spark?” Bucky asks, delighted.

“Yes,” Tony sniffs. “Did he give _you_ a nickname? No, I didn’t think so. He obviously loves me best.”

Bucky just raises an eyebrow at Tony, not breaking eye contact as he waves his metal hand in front of Lucas’s face. Lucas promptly forgets all about Tony and chases Bucky’s hand, laughing when Bucky boops his nose and whenever the plates shift.

“You’re not gonna win this.” Tony shakes his head. “I _built_ that. That’s why he loves it.”

Steve and Pepper share an amused glance, knowing it’s better if they intervene now than end up with Bucky and Tony engaged in a fight over Lucas’s love. Not that it’s a fight at all. The one Lucas loves best is _Steve_ , after all.

“How about we all get something to drink?” Steve pipes up. “Pepper?”

“That’d be lovely, Steve, thank you.”

“Thought you said we weren't gonna leave each other alone,” Bucky mumbles, narrowing his eyes at Steve.

Steve just kisses the tip of Bucky’s nose, smiling when the tips if Bucky’s ears turn pink. “You can handle it.”

Bucky huffs. “Don’t take too long.”

Sam is still beaming when Steve walks past him and into the kitchen, and Steve just _knows_ he wants to say something.

“Don’t.”

“C’mon, man.” Sam claps him on the back, almost making Steve drop a glass. “That was adorable.”

“It was embarrassing, you mean,” Steve corrects.

“Thought that’s what you said being a parent was about,” Sam points out. “Doing embarrassing shit for you kid.”

“Not when you’re around to see it.”

“It was very cute,” Maria comments, stirring something. “But you did a very poor job of defending yourself, Rogers. I thought I taught you better.”

Steve grumbles as he serves drinks for everyone, glaring at Sam when he laughs.

“Bucky does have ridiculously good aim, though,” Sam says in consolation.

“He would.” Maria nods. “Still not an excuse.”

“I’m leaving now,” Steve says, louder than necessary. “Because I don’t deserve this from my best friends.”

Sam and Maria’s laughter follows him as he leaves, not that he minds as much as he’s pretending he does. They’ve both seen him do a lot worse than playing monster with his kid and his boyfriend, and they probably have the evidence to support it hidden somewhere.

Bucky seems to be getting some of the same form of teasing as Steve was, but from Natasha and Clint. His cheeks are red, eyes wide as he hisses something, which only makes Clint laugh and Nat look incredibly pleased with herself.

Steve looks around for Lucas, who’s not with Bucky anymore, smiling when he finds his son with Pepper. She’s nodding while he babbles something and points at Lucky, who’s currently trying to chew at Tony’s shoe laces.

“Do you need rescuing?” Steve asks when he gets closer, offering drinks to the two of them.

“This dog is not a good dog,” Tony says, unsuccessfully trying to push Lucky away. “Bad dog.”

“No!” Lucas argues, scowling at Tony. “Nice doggy!”

“Your son has terrible taste,” Tony tells Steve.

“Must be why he loves you,” Steve replies calmly, face blank.

Tony opens and closes his mouth a few times, not knowing what to say. Steve nods at him and flashes a quick smile at Pepper, who ducks her head behind Lucas’s head to hide her own twitch of lips.

When Steve turns in Bucky’s direction is to find him with the color drained from his face, his skin so pale Steve is worried he’ll keel over and pass out.

“What did you do?” Steve asks Nat, handing them all drinks before sitting down beside Bucky, an arm over Bucky’s shoulders.

“Nothing more than I said I did,” Natasha answers, leaning back against Clint’s side, one of her hands resting on his knee.

“Buck?”

Bucky just glances up at him, eyes wide in horror. “Becca got the video. Of us and Lucas.” Bucky swallows hard, his voice so low and filled with dread when he says, “She showed it to Ma.”

“Is that...bad?” Steve moves his hand to the back of Bucky’s neck, fingers tangling through Bucky’s hair.

Bucky makes a little upset sound in the back of his throat. “ _Steve_ ,” he hisses, leaning in close, eyes wide and fearful. “‘S not _bad_. It’s _worse_.”

“How—”

“She’s talkin’ about comin’ here,” Bucky continues. “She’s talkin’ about visitin’ and _meetin’ the family_ and— And—,” Bucky takes a deep breath, letting it all rush out of him as he says, “She’s askin’ when there’s gonna be a _weddin’_. Because I need to let everyone know with plenty of time to plan so they can all come down here and book hotel rooms and make sure Grandma doesn’t end up in the wrong city like that one time—”

“Bucky—”

“They’re gettin’ involved. I don’t want them to get involved,” Bucky keeps going. “The last time they got involved I joined the army and we all know how _that_ turned out.”

“Buck—”

“We should elope!” Bucky says, looking a little hysterical at the edges. “Then we don’t need a weddin’. We can just go to City Hall and ask one of the other couples to be our witnesses. My family doesn’t need to be here. No Ma takin’ over the plannin’, no sisters not leaving us alone for a fuckin’ second, no aunts and uncles and cousins all wantin’ to know everythin’ about our lives. Just us and Lucas.”

Steve gives up trying to talk. He just grabs Bucky’s face between his and plants a kiss right over his lips, hard and hot and unapologetic. When he pulls back Bucky is blinking dazedly up at him, eyes a little glazed over.

“Are you feeling better?”

Bucky takes a shallow breath, hands coming to wrap around Steve’s wrists, not pulling away, just holding on.

“I love my family,” Bucky says quietly. “But I love them a lot more a safe distance away from me.”

“Okay,” Steve answers, even don’t he doesn’t really understand. He’d give anything to have his mom there with him, but it’s Bucky’s right to not want the same for himself. “That’s alright. Natasha will apologize for getting Becca involved.”

“Will I?” Natasha asks, tilting her head to the side.

Steve doesn’t say anything, just stares at her, unflinching. Natasha might be scary, but she has nothing on Steve’s stubbornness.

“I’m sorry, James,” Natasha says kindly, turning to Bucky. “I promise I’ll only send embarrassing videos of you to Kate from now on.”

Steve rolls his eyes while Bucky lets out a choked up laugh, his cheek pressing into Steve’s palm.

“Thanks, Nat,” Bucky says. “And sorry for freaking out.”

“No need to apologize, man.” Clint knocks his foot against Bucky’s. “We should have known it wasn’t a good idea. We’ve all got our own family stuff we’d rather not deal with. Sorry we put that on you.”

“Apology accepted.”

“We’ll go see if Sam wants to part with one of his brownies,” Natasha offers. “I’ll bring it to you. And I know where Steve keeps the good liquor.”

Steve knows that’s Natasha’s way to _really_ apologize for doing something she shouldn’t have. Bucky does too, because he nods and gives her a small smile.

“Alright?” Steve asks him once Clint and Nat get up, thumbs tracing Bucky’s cheekbones.

Bucky closes his eyes leaning into Steve’s touch. “They’re too much, sometimes. My family. Especially since I just came back from spending a week with them.”

“You need to recharge,” Steve says, echoing the words Bucky said to him before.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs. “‘S like, every time I leave them I have to carve a space out for myself again. Because they just try to take over.”

“Bucky.”

“I know they have the best intentions at heart,” Bucky explains. “But I gotta live my own life the way I want to. Not that way _they_ want to.”

“I’m sorry,” is all Steve can offer, along with another sweet kiss to Bucky’s lips.

“Don’t apologize.” Bucky shakes his head at him, resting their foreheads together. “I’ll probably freak out about them again at some point.”

Steve lets himself smile a little, nuzzling his nose against Bucky’s. “That’s okay. I’m here for whatever you need.”

Bucky brushes their lips together. “Thanks, Stevie.”

Steve just kisses him again, slow and sweet. He also takes Bucky’s words and holds them close to his heart, putting them away until the time is right. Because even though he agrees with Bucky about the eloping business, he knows Aunt Debbie would never forgive him if he didn’t invite her to his wedding.

“Here’s your brownie.” Steve and Bucky break their kiss to find Natasha in front of them, the ghost of a smile on her lips. “And Steve’s good liquor.” She hands both to Bucky, who takes them and squeezes her hand in thanks. “Don’t let Sam see.”

Steve snorts as Bucky promptly stuffs the entire brownie into his mouth, cheeks bulging as he chews.

“Lovely,” Natasha says, wrinkling her nose at him.

Bucky just grins at her, chocolate on his teeth.

“I’ve never been more in love with you,” Steve deadpans. “Really. You’re so sexy right now.”

Bucky bats his lashes at him, taking a sip of his drink to wash the food down. “Damn right I am,” Bucky says, licking his lips. “I’m the sexiest person in this entire apartment.”

“Excuse me,” Sam interrupts them, appearing behind Natasha. “But the sexiest person in here is _me_. And food’s almost ready. Everyone to the table, Maria’s orders.” Both Bucky and Steve salute him, while Natasha just hips checks him. “Nice, guys, really. And don’t think I don’t know about the brownie, Barnes.”

Bucky has the grace to look sheepish, but he doesn’t apologize. “Let’s go get our kid.”

Pepper relinquishes Lucas with a kiss to his cheek, and Steve watches in amusement as she snaps her fingers and Lucky abandons Tony’s shoes, instead going to her side. The look of pure awe on Tony’s face would be funny if it wasn’t so endearing, and Steve knows he probably looks about the same whenever Bucky does… well, _anything_ really.

Lucas looks around excitedly when Steve sets him on his high chair. “Food?”

“Yeah, pal.” Bucky leans over to run his hand through Lucas’s hair. “ _Food_.”

Lucas raises his arms up high. “Yay!”

They all laugh at him, gathering around Steve’s table. It doesn’t take long before Sam and Maria are bringing the food in, Steve’s offers to help being dismissed with a shake of Sam’s head and Maria telling him to sit down _or else_.

“Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” Bucky moans when he gets his first taste of the food, almost making Steve choke on his tongue. “This is amazin’.”

“Thank you,” Maria says with a pleased smile. “Don’t get used to it.”

Bucky pouts, to which Steve can’t resist but lean in to kiss it. Bucky blinks at him, surprised.

Steve just shrugs, cheeks heating up.

“Yeah, yeah, you love him, we get it.” Tony points his fork between them. “Pass me the mash potatoes.”

Dinner goes about as it always does when they’re all together: it’s loud and comfortable and filled with jokes and conversation and Lucas trying to sneak Lucky some food. They all get a little bit drunk, Clint and Tony especially. Rhodey, Tony’s best friend, stops by somewhere between Steve’s third helping and dessert, apologizing for being late.

“Got held up at the VA,” he explains, sitting down beside Tony. “And Tony, I can serve myself.”

“You try doing someone a favor,” Tony grumbles, but smiles a little when Rhodey steals some food from his plate.

“Lucas, food is for _you_ to eat,” Steve sighs, saving a piece of pork from ending up on the floor. “Not to give to Lucky.”

“But doggy,” Lucas pouts, big blue eyes piercing Steve’s heart.

“Clinton, control your dog,” Bucky tells him,

Clint sighs, getting up. “C’mon, Lucky. I think think I saw frozen pizza in Steve’s freezer.”

Lucas pouts and glares at Steve until the moment Sam brings the dessert, mouth dropping open at the sight of all the baked goods now on the table.

“Woah,” Lucas says, glancing around. “ _Woah_.”

“‘S like Christmas again.” Bucky laughs a little, leaning into Steve. “I’ll give him something before he starts crying.”

Lucas almost does, anyway, when Bucky sets a little plate filled with treats in front of him. He takes a deep breath, looking up at Bucky. “Bucky,” Lucas says, hand wrapping around two of Bucky’s fingers. “Love you.”

The entire table grows silent at that exchange, everyone’s attention on them. Steve’s heart is almost bursting out of his chest as Bucky’s face softens and he bends down to kiss Lucas’s forehead. He knows he’s the only one who hears Bucky say ‘ _I love you_ ’ back to Lucas, but everyone knows he did just the same.

They settle into the living room again after they’ve all eaten, taking the time to congratulate Maria and Sam on the meal. The dishes are left in the sink, something Steve will take care of later, when he’s more inclined to. Instead he takes in all of his friends, his _family_ , around his living room, all talking and joking around and with big smiles on their faces. Bucky is sitting beside him with Lucas on his lap, one red bow stuck to his metal arm, which Lucas sometimes glances at and pokes. The blinds are shut and the tv is on, and Steve is exactly where he wants to be.

“This is good, isn’t it?” Bucky asks him, voice low and soft and only meant for Steve’s ears.

“It is,” Steve agrees, feeling pleasantly warm and full and just a little bit drunk. “We all get to eat Maria’s cooking and Sam’s baking and they get to pretend they’re not smug as hell about how much we love it. Tony, Natasha and Clint get to embarrass us. Pepper gets to get drunk and not have to worry about Tony. Lucky gets pizza. ‘S nice.”

“And what do we get?” Bucky drops his chin on Steve’s shoulder.

“I get you,” Steve says, nuzzling his nose against Bucky’s. “Don’t need anything else.”

“Sap,” Bucky murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to Steve’s lips.

“And you get me and Lucas,” Steve continues. “And Lucas gets to spend New Years with his dads.”

Bucky pulls back, mouth parting in surprise. “His dads?”

Steve blinks once, twice, mouth opening without making any sounds. “Well,” Steve takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He also shakes his head, sitting up on the couch instead of slumping against it. Sure, he might be a little buzzed, but this is a serious conversation. And he wants Bucky to know without a doubt Steve means what he’s saying. “Yeah, Buck. You love, take care of, and worry about him as much as I do. You tuck him in at night and tell him stories and you don’t let him eat things that aren’t food.”

“I don’t want him to get sick,” Bucky huffs, rubbing a hand up and down Lucas’s chest. Lucas is distracted trying to get Lucky to bring him one of the throw pillows on the other couch, pointing at it and making grabby hands. “Or to choke on something. And just ‘cause it looks good it doesn’t mean it’s okay to eat it.”

“That’s what being a parent is like,” Steve continues. “Taking care of them and being around and making sure they’re always warm and fed and happy and safe. And you do all of that. So yeah, Bucky. As far as I’m concerned, we’re his dads.”

And it’s true.

As far as Steve’s concerned, Bucky is part of their family. As far as Steve’s concerned, Bucky is right there along with him raising Lucas to be the best person he can be. As far as Steve’s concerned, Bucky is Lucas’s other parent.

And he hopes with all that he has that Bucky feels the same way. But as the seconds tick by and Bucky doesn’t say anything in response, just stares at him without blinking, eyes gray-blue and not giving anything away, Steve is not so sure.

“Unless you don’t—,” Steve starts, jaw tensing and stomach churning.

Or at least until Bucky says, “Oh my god, you fuckin’ _dumbass_ ,” and kisses him square on the mouth.

The kiss is awkward with Lucas squished between them, their teeth clinking together because Steve is still trying to speak. But it’s still one of the best kisses Steve’s ever had, slow and deep and so _intense_ it almost makes Steve’s toes curl.

“Of course I do, are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Bucky says between kisses, one hand cupping Lucas’s cheek. “I love you and I love our son and I’ll be a great dad, I promise.”

Steve’s laugh is watery and shaky, and he’s smiling so hard his face is in danger of breaking in half. “You already are,” he says, kissing Bucky again. “No need to promise.”

Lucas picks that moment to pat their cheeks, his hand slipping between their faces and getting accidental kisses. “Fuckin’,” Lucas repeats. “Dum- _ass_. Damn, hell, devil. Shit!”

They all turn to look at Lucas as absolute silence follows his impressive knowledge of swear words. That is until Bucky starts outright _giggling_ , his body shaking as he’s overcome with it, leaving him breathless and almost doubled over, looking like the most gorgeous man Steve’s ever seen in his life. So of course he joins in, joy too big to be contained, spilling over and transforming into laughter. Their friends follow behind, with Lucky ditching Clint in favor of running around all of them and barking.

“We’ll work on it, huh?” Bucky asks him between giggles, bouncing Lucas in his arm, his other one around Steve’s shoulders. “What do you say, Stevie?”

Well, all Steve can really say is, “Yes.”

And in the background, the clock strikes midnight and the ball drops, celebrating the beginning of a happier new year.


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Happy New Year, Bucky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings** for sappy and emotional sex right off the bat because that's what i'm about i guess. if that's not your thing, just ctrl + f _“You know what I also love?”_. also i'm not changing the rating of the story, since it's only a little part of it that is about sexy times. :B

“Happy New Year, Bucky.”

Steve smiles when Bucky huffs, rubbing his cheek against Steve’s bare shoulder, scruff scratching at Steve’s skin. There’s nothing new about Bucky using him as his own personal teddy bear, his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist and one leg thrown over his thighs, keeping him in place. There’s also nothing new about Bucky not being a morning person, all frowns and slurred speech and bleary eyes.

“ _Stevie_ ,” Bucky grumbles, tucking his head under Steve’s chin. No other words follow, not that they need to. Steve’s well-versed on Bucky’s, well, _everything_ to know that this particular tone means: _go the fuck back to sleep, you dumbass_.

“Aren’t you going to wish me a happy new year?” Steve asks, fingers tangling through Bucky’s hair, tugging a little.

“‘S not happy,” Bucky mumbles, holding Steve tighter to him. “Stop watchin’ me. Wanna sleep.”

Steve wiggles a little until Bucky loosens his hold, turning around in bed so they’re side to side, facing each other. Bucky still has his eyes closed, brows furrowed.

“I like watching you.”

“Creepy.” Bucky lifts up a hand and places it over Steve’s eyes. “ _Sleep_.”

“You sure?” Steve pulls Bucky’s hand down and places a kiss to his palm, lips curling up when Bucky’s frown disappears. “I was kinda hoping we’d have some time to ourselves.”

Bucky blinks one eye open. “Are you sayin’ you’re wakin’ me up for sex?”

Steve grins, ignoring the blood rushing to his cheeks rocking his hips forward into Bucky’s. There’s no mistaking the hard line of his dick against Bucky’s stomach, let alone the way he moans a little at the friction.

“Really?” Bucky huffs, letting his hand trail down Steve’s chest and stomach to come rest on his hip, squeezing a little.

“You’re naked,” Steve tells him, making his point by slipping an arm around Bucky’s waist, his hand resting just above the swell of Bucky’s ass.

“And you can’t resist, huh?”

“I can if you say no,” Steve answers, nuzzling their noses together.

“But you don’t wanna.”

“Maybe,” Steve answers, sliding his hand up and down Bucky’s hip and thigh, sleep warm skin soft under his palm. “I only want it if you want it.”

Bucky blinks again and narrows both of his eyes at Steve. “There’s nothin’ maybe about this,” Bucky tells him, reaching in between them and cupping Steve in his hand.

Steve’s breath hitches, and he presses into Bucky’s touch. “Can take care of it myself,” Steve gasps, “if you’re not up for it.”

Bucky snorts, moving his hand so it rests on Steve’s hip instead. “Oh, I’m up for it,” he replies, tugging Steve closer.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Bucky nods, their noses brushing. “But you’re doin’ all the work.”

Steve laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m good with that.”

“C’mere, then.”

Steve goes, closing the distance between them and catching Bucky’s mouth in a kiss. It’s stale and a little sour, but wet and heated, and Steve loses himself into it just like he always does. He’s helpless against Bucky like this, when they’re so close together, taking their time kissing each other. There’s nothing he likes more than having Bucky here with him, both of them on their bed, warm despite the snow falling heavily outside, with nowhere to go and nothing to do.

Steve rolls them over so he’s on top, Bucky pliant underneath him. “Morning,” he says, moving to mouth at Bucky’s jaw, nipping at his neck, sucking marks into his collarbones.

“I’ll say.” Bucky chuckles, hand light on the back of Steve’s neck. “Morning, sweetheart.”

Steve smiles against the hollow of Bucky’s throat, fingers finding Bucky’s hair. He tugs at it, delighting in the way it makes Bucky groan and tilt his head to the side, giving Steve more room to work with.

They know all of each other’s weak spots now, after two years of being together _like this_. They’ve taken the time to learn exactly what makes the other tick, and they’re not at all ashamed to use their knowledge to their advantage. Which Bucky proves as he lets his metal hand slowly slide up from its place on Steve’s hip and past his stomach to cup his pec, cold fingers pinching Steve’s nipple.

“ _Buck_ ,” Steve grunts, dick twitching.

“Yes?”

Steve lifts his head up to find Bucky blinking innocently up at him, lips swollen and cheeks flushed and eyes glinting. He’s gorgeous, and Steve tells him as much.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Bucky scrunches his nose up at him, more out of embarrassment than anything else. “Out of the two of us, someone’s gotta be the pretty one.”

Steve rolls his eyes, dropping a kiss to Bucky’s chin. “You like my ugly mug.”

Bucky sighs, shaking his head. “I don’t _like_ your anything.”

Steve grins, nipping at Bucky’s bottom lip. “You _love_ my ugly mug.”

“That’s more like it.” Bucky shifts, hooking one leg around Steve’s waist, pulling him closer. “Love other parts of you more, though.”

“You do, huh?”

Bucky nods, lips brushing against Steve’s own in the ghost of a kiss. “Yup. Especially when you’re inside me.”

Steve’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, swiping over Bucky’s in the process. Bucky’s expression is soft and open when Steve stares at him, metal hand coming to rest flat over Steve’s heart. Steve knows Bucky can’t feel much with it, but it’s the gesture that counts.

“You want me like that?” he asks, voice low and rough.

“I do.”

“Thought you said I was gonna do all the work,” Steve tells him.

“You can still do it,” Bucky answers. “I’ll just lie here and think of Brooklyn.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, biting the tip of Bucky’s nose. “As if you could.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow at him. “Someone’s cocky.”

“That’s why you love me.”

Bucky shrugs, wrapping his arm around Steve’s shoulder. “Yeah, well.”

“You really want it like this?” Steve asks, rubbing one hand up and down Bucky’s thigh. “Thought I could ride you instead.”

Bucky bites down on his bottom lip as he considers it but then shakes his head. “We can do that some other time,” he says, pulling Steve down so he can rest their foreheads together. “And yes. Want you inside me. Like our first time.”

Steve makes a little pleased sound in the back of his throat, mind going back to the first time they made love. “I can do that,” he promises, pressing sweet little kisses to Bucky’s mouth.

“You’ve got my enthusiastic consent, sweetheart.” Bucky kisses him back, both thighs now wrapped around Steve’s waist. “Please.”

Steve is helpless against Bucky’s pleading, not that he would have denied Bucky either way. He can’t resist Bucky when he’s like this, sweet and eager and asking for what he wants.

“I’ve got you,” Steve says, dropping kisses to every part of Bucky he can touch, taking his time tasting him, _marking_ him, until Bucky is moving his hips in slow circles against Steve’s, looking for more.

Steve doesn’t give him more, not right away. Instead, he surges up and slots their lips together in a kiss, slow and deep and all consuming. Bucky’s lips are bitten red when Steve pulls back, eyes a little glazed over and breathing harsh.

“You’re gonna take this slow, aren’t you?” Bucky asks, voice low and already a wreck.

“Like our first time,” Steve repeats Bucky’s words back to him with a smile, heart tripping in his chest when Bucky ducks his head and smiles back, almost shy.

And when they kiss again, Steve pours everything he has into it: he shows Bucky how much this means to him, how much he loves him, how much he wants to make this good for them. Because even though they’ve done this before, countless time, since the first New Year they spent together and Bucky woke him up with kisses and a determined look in his eyes, Steve sometimes gets caught off guard but how much he _wants_ Bucky.

He thinks that after two and a half years the novelty would off, but that hasn’t happened. He’s still just as in love with Bucky as he was when they first started dating. He suspects even more so now that they’ve built a life together.

So he kisses Bucky and kisses him and kisses him some more, trying to say everything he can’t put into words. And he knows Bucky gets it, with the way he tightens his legs around Steve’s waist, the way he curls one hand around the back of Steve’s neck and keeps him in place, kissing him back just as fiercely.

“Okay?”

Bucky hums, eyes half-lidded, mouth curled up in a smirk. “Just what I asked for, huh?”

Steve grins, kissing the corner of Bucky’s mouth. “I can pretend to be nervous if you want. Maybe squeeze the lube too hard and spill it all over your stomach again.”

Bucky laughs, eyes crinkling at the corner and breath hitching when that make their dicks brush together. “I didn’t say it I wanted it _exactly_ like our first time.”

“So no exploding lube?” Steve asks, still grinning. “No you helping me put on the condom because my hands are shaking so bad? No whispering how much I love you while I make love to you?”

Steve enjoys the way Bucky flushes at his words, not that he’s looking any better.

“The last part is still okay,” Bucky murmurs, thumb tracing lightly over Steve’s cheek. “Could do without the rest, though.”

“Aye, aye, Serg—”

Steve gets cut off by Bucky’s mouth on his own, not that he minds. He also doesn’t mind the nip at his bottom lip that follows, Bucky’s way of telling him to _shut the fuck up_ and _get movin’, Stevie_.

“Love you,” Steve says instead, right against Bucky’s lips.

Bucky sighs happily, nails digging into the back of Steve’s neck. “Show me.”

And Steve does, taking his time kissing every inch of Bucky’s body, sucking marks into his skin, whispering praises and soft words along the way. They don’t do this a lot, Bucky getting too embarrassed and impatient and wanting to shut Steve up and move things along. But this time he lets himself be loved, lets himself be worship, and Steve thanks him for this gift with sweet kisses and gentle hands and love shining in his eyes. Bucky is trembling when Steve surges up to catch his mouth in a kiss again, body flushed and slicked with sweat, eyes dark and asking for more.

“Hey.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” Bucky says, voice barely a whisper.

“You’re doing okay?”

Bucky answers with a kiss and a small nod. “Could be doin’ better, though.”

Steve snorts, brushing Bucky’s hair away from his face, hand stopping to cup his cheek. “Open up for me?”

Bucky does, hands now holding on to the back of his knees. Steve’s sharp intake of breath at just how _gorgeous_ Bucky looks like this doesn’t go unnoticed, if judging by the way Bucky smirks and wiggles his hips a little, teasing.

“You’re just gonna stare or you’re gonna do somethin’?”

“I’m tempted,” Steve admits, wrapping one hand around his own dick, the other resting on Bucky’s ass, thumb rubbing circles at the soft skin.

Bucky laughs, sounding a little breathless. “Please don’t.”

Steve bites down on his bottom lip, unable to resist Bucky whenever he says _please_ to anything. He’s sure Bucky is aware of the power he has, because he doesn’t hesitate to grip loosely at Steve’s wrist, fingers resting over his pulse point.

“Please,” Bucky says again, eyes liquid.

“I’ve got you,” Steve tells him, bringing Bucky’s hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

And Steve does, leaning in and pressing their lips together, getting lost once again in the feel of Bucky this close to him, Bucky’s taste, Bucky’s scent. Hell, Bucky’s _everything_.

Steve’s helpless when faced with the little noises Bucky makes when Steve starts opening him up, whimpers and soft moans and Steve’s name on his lips. Even more so when Bucky starts rocking back into his fingers, eager and needy and wanting more. But especially when he finally starts pressing inside, Bucky hot and tight and _so fucking good_ around him.

And Steve—

Steve knows doing things with someone you’re in love with is different. He’s had a chance to figure out all the different ways you can show someone you love them during his time with Bucky, both in and out of their bed.

But sometimes it still hits Steve straight in the gut whenever they do this, how much he fucking _loves_ the man under him, wrapped around him, clinging to him so tight it’s like he never wants to let go. And it’s like he’s sixteen and unable to breathe again, crappy lungs straining as he fights for his next breath.

This is _Bucky_ , and Steve’s never wanted someone as much as he wants Bucky. He doesn’t think he ever will, doesn’t think it’s possible to feel this kind of encompassing love for another person. He wants Bucky, and he wants _this_ , and he wants _them_ together for as long as he lives.

For the rest of his fucking _life_.

Which is good, considering the little black box he has hidden in his gym bag.

“ _Bucky_.”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Bucky breathes out, tilting his head up, lips wet and sloppy against the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I know.”

And Steve kisses him, because it’s all he can do.

Steve kisses him and moves in slow deep thrusts, their bodies sliding together, following their own unique rhythm. Steve kisses him and settles his weight on top of Bucky, Bucky’s legs thrown over his shoulder, bringing them impossibly close to each other. Steve kisses him and shows Bucky how much he loves him, with his hands and lips and words.

Steve kisses him and gives Bucky everything he has.

And it’s worth it, to see the look on Bucky’s face when he comes, eyes closed and pink mouth slack, Steve’s name on the tip of his tongue. Even more so when Bucky looks at him, face soft and pleased and filled with love, his hands light and sure as they grip Steve’s ass, urging him on.

“C’mon, Stevie. I want you to,” Bucky breathes out, mouth at Steve’s throat. “Come for me.”

Steve tips over the edge with Bucky’s voice in his ears, Bucky’s lips at his throat, Bucky’s hands holding on to him and keeping him exactly where Bucky wants him. And then he can’t do much more than slump on top of Bucky, strings cut, heart so filled with love he thinks he might burst. Bucky doesn’t seem to mind, touch sure on Steve’s back, hot metal fingers drawing patterns on Steve’s skin.

“I really love you, you know,” Steve mumbles, voice thick, lifting his head a little.

“I do.” Bucky nods, thumb tracing Steve’s bottom lip. “I just like you a little.”

Steve scrunches his nose at him, pinching Bucky’s side. “Way to ruin the moment.”

Bucky just smiles, tilting his head up for a kiss and laughing a little when Steve kisses back instead of pushing him away. Not that Steve _could_. He’ll never deny Bucky his kisses.

“Hey,” Bucky says, serious. “I love you, too.”

Steve makes a little pleased sound, nuzzling his nose against Bucky and giving him a kiss. It also serves as an apology for when he pulls out, kissing the insides of Bucky’s knees before he cleans them up as best as he can.

“You know what I also love?”

“What?” Bucky asks him, arms now tucked behind his head.

“Yoga,” Steve says, wiggling his eyebrows as he starts massaging Bucky’s legs.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Bucky groans, covering his face with his hands and laughing.

“It’s not everyone who can put their legs on other people’s shoulders while they do this, Buck,” Steve tells him, trying to keep a blank face as he talks. “It’s a real gift.”

“Shuddup, _Jesus_.”

“It’s Steve, actually.”

Bucky makes a wounded sound, grabbing one of their pillows and holding it over his face. He’s still laughing, Steve can tell, body moving with it.

Steve presses another kiss to Bucky’s knee, letting his legs drop to the mattress, and leans down, tugging at the pillow until Bucky lets go of it. Steve immediately presses in for a kiss, their teeth clinking together.

“You’re _awful_ ,” Bucky gasps against Steve’s lips.

“‘M not,” Steve mutters, dropping a wet kiss to Bucky’s cheek. “I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

Steve isn’t expecting the way Bucky goes limp under him at that, lips quirked up in a smile, eyes shining and heated.

“You are,” Bucky agrees, running his fingers through Steve’s hair, hand stopping at the back of his neck. “Already said this to you before, but I can say it again. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

“Buck,” Steve whispers, resting their foreheads together.

“I am.” Bucky squeezes the back of his neck. “Thank my lucky stars every day for it, too.”

And Steve, well.

Steve is breathless again, air rushing out of him as _want_ and _love_ rush through his body. It makes him feel like he’s floating, weightless, invincible in the face of Bucky’s love for him.

Which is probably why he completely loses control of his mouth and says, “Marry me.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky means it when he says it, always has.

He’s had a lot of bad luck in his life, but meeting Steve was like striking gold. Even more so as they fell in love and made a life together, the two of them plus Lucas: his family.

So Bucky means it with all his heart when he says he’s the luckiest guy in the world. Because how can’t he be? He’s warm and safe and in bed with the man he loves, all smiles and jokes and laughter after great sex, their little boy sleeping a few rooms away.

He’s _happy_. Happy in a way he didn’t think he’d ever get to be again.

That still doesn’t mean he’s expecting Steve, when they’re both still in bed and naked and smelling of jizz and sweat, to open his mouth and say, “ _Marry me_.”

“What?” Bucky wheezes, suddenly out of breath, heart jumping to his throat. His entire body goes from limp and relaxed to tense in about three seconds, the plates in his arms shifting and whirring as they recalibrate. “You— _What_?”

And it seems to take Steve a second to catch up to what he’s said, but once he does it’s for him to stare down at Bucky in horror, mouth open and face pale and eyes wide.

“Oh fuck,” Steve says, which does _nothing_ to calm Bucky down. Steve doesn’t swear much, so for him to just drop it like that, then it means something is _really wrong_. “Oh shit, Bucky.”

And that only makes everything _worse_. Because even though Bucky is caught off guard and surprised and feels like his entire world is spinning around him, he doesn’t want anything to be wrong. He wasn’t expecting Steve to _propose_ , but now that he has? Bucky doesn’t want him to take it back.

And his face must show some of what his thinking, lips turning down or eyes turning sad and panicked, because Steve goes even _paler_ , if that’s possible.

“You don’t—,” Bucky starts, hating when his voice weavers.

“ _No!”_ Steve practically yells, making Bucky’s heart drop to his stomach. “That’s not what I—,” Steve tries again, shaking his head. “I didn’t— What I’m trying to say—”

Bucky plants his hands on Steve’s shoulders and tries to push him away. He doesn’t want to hear Steve say he doesn’t want to marry him, that it was just the heat of the moment, a slip of the tongue, a _mistake_.

Not that Steve lets him run away like he wants to, dropping his weight on Bucky and efficiently pinning him down.

“Steve.” Bucky swallows hard, turning his head to the side so he doesn’t have to look at Steve. “Just let me—”

Steve doesn’t let him _anything_ , instead cupping Bucky’s face with his hand and tilting it to the side. He also doesn’t waste any time slotting their lips together as soon as Bucky opens his mouth to tell him to fuck off, this kiss so intense and desperate that it steals Bucky’s breath away.

It also leaves him a little confused, if he’s being honest.

“This isn’t how I wanted to do this,” Steve murmurs against his lips, his eyes closed, their foreheads touching. “I wasn’t going to fuck this up.”

“Fuck what up?” Bucky breathes out, fingers curling over Steve’s shoulders now, not pushing him away but holding on.

Steve lifts his head, eyes soft but remorseful when he says, “Proposing to you.”

Bucky makes a little choked up sound in the back of his throat, heart going into overdrive. “So it wasn’t a mista—”

“Fuck, Bucky, _no_ ,” Steve cuts him off, horrified all over again. “I didn’t meant to just blurt it out, but I—,” Steve takes a deep breath, entire demeanor shifting to something more certain, determined, like he’s bracing himself for something. “Can you wait here a minute?”

Bucky blinks at him. “What?”

He knows he’s been saying that a lot, but _what_.

“Just a minute,” Steve tells him. “So I can get something. Promise me? Just stay here, in bed. I won’t even leave the room, just don’t move.”

“Okay?” Bucky agrees, a little uncertain. He loosens his hold on Steve, sitting up on the bed and crossing his arms over his chest as soon as Steve gets up. He pulls the sheets over his lap and leans against the headboard, still feeling a little off balance.

He watches as Steve walks naked to their closet, too nervous to properly appreciate when Steve bends down to retrieve something. He does notice the minute shift to the way Steve holds himself when he comes back, though, shoulders a little tighter, gaze a little anxious.

“So,” Steve starts, sitting down in front of Bucky in bed, naked and beautiful and _not saying anything else_.

“Steve, c’mon,” Bucky prompts, throat tight.

Steve huffs, scrubs a hand over his face, the other one holding onto something. “I had this whole plan, you see.”

And Bucky is taken for a second to the moment Steve asked him out, their walk back to Steve’s apartment, happiness bubbling in his chest. It’s almost the exact same feeling he’s having right now.

“To propose?” Bucky asks, lifting a trembling hand to run through his hair.

Steve nods, shoulders hunching a little. “Yeah,” he says, looking down at his hand. “It didn’t involve asking you right after we had sex, by the way.”

Bucky laughs, small and a little incredulous. “No shit.”

Steve shakes his head, cheeks a little pink. “I was going to ask Sam to take Lucas for the night,” he explains, glancing at Bucky from under his lashes. “Cook you a nice dinner, make your favorite dessert. I thought about maybe asking Natasha for help and doing it in the studio, you know? Since it’s where we met. But I didn’t want her spying on us.”

Bucky smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “And she would.”

“‘S why I wanted to do it at home,” Steve tells him. “Our home. Just us.”

“It sounds real nice, sweetheart,” Bucky says quietly, reaching out a hand and resting it on top of Steve’s knee.

Steve shrugs one shoulder. “It would’ve been, I think. If I hadn’t—,” Steve makes a broad gesture between them with his hand, before placing it on top of Bucky’s on his knee. “But I guess that’s done with now.”

“Says who?” Bucky narrows his eyes at him. “I still want my nice dinner and favorite dessert, Rogers.”

Steve’s lips curl up, eyes shining. “Yeah?” he asks, and then opens his palm to show the little black box he’s been holding. “Should I hold on to this and wait, then?”

Bucky bites down on his bottom lip, glancing from the box to Steve’s face and back again. “Well, I mean, you’ve already said you want to marry me,” Bucky answers, breath catching a little at the word ‘marry’. “So I don’t see why you can’t ask me now.”

“Oh?” Steve raises an eyebrow, face flushed. “Is that so?”

Bucky nods, his own face heating up. “I think it’s the right thing to do.”

“If it’s the right thing…,” Steve trails off, face breaking into a smile as he slides off the bed and gets down to one knee. His fingers shake a little as he gets the little box opened, revealing the simple gold band inside. “James—,” Steve starts, rolling his eyes when Bucky makes a face at him. “ _Bucky_ , will you marry me?”

Bucky’s entire world stops as he stares at Steve, down in one knee on the floor of their bedroom, naked and gorgeous and like everything Bucky’s ever wanted for himself.

So it’s no wonder Bucky throws the sheets off of himself and practically flings himself at Steve, making them fall to the floor in a tangle of limbs and giddy laughter and a few tears.

“Yes,” Bucky says, peppering kisses all over Steve’s face, his arms around Steve’s neck, their bodies flush together. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“You will?” Steve asks, breathless and beaming, his arms locked around Bucky’s waist.

“I will.” Bucky nods, and if he’s crying a little, well… it’s not like Steve isn’t, too. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Steve whispers, pressing their lips together. “So fucking much.”

Bucky chases Steve for another kiss and another and another, until they’re both panting and hard and rocking against each other.

“Wait, wait,” Bucky gasps, pulling back a little. “You gotta put that ring on my finger, Steve. Gotta do it right.”

Steve laughs, but wastes no time in grabbing the ring. Bucky bites down on his bottom lip when Steve slides it into his finger, tears filling his eyes again.

“Do you have one for you?” Bucky asks, voice rough, wiping at his eyes.

Steve does, as soon enough Bucky is the one putting a ring around Steve’s finger, bringing Steve’s hand up to his mouth and kissing it.

“Tony might have helped a little with the ring,” Steve admits, thumb tracing the band. “Because of your arm. Didn’t want it to slide it off.”

“Dammit,” Bucky sniffs. “I’m gonna have to thank him.”

Steve laughs, kissing Bucky’s cheek. “We’ll do it together.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, nuzzling his nose against Steve. “Together. But only tomorrow. We’ve got things to take care of.” Bucky makes his point by shifting on Steve’s lap, smirking when that makes Steve gasp. “You up for it?”

And Steve is, as he shows it to Bucky _twice_ before they have to get up to shower and make breakfast. Bucky doesn’t even bother trying to wipe the smug look on Steve’s face while they’re cooking, instead settling for stealing drinking coffee out of Steve’s mug and stealing a couple of pancakes.

It doesn’t take long before they hear Lucas getting up, the smell of pancakes definitely doing the trick better than either Steve or Bucky calling his name. Bucky can’t help but smile as he pads into the kitchen, hair sticking up everywhere, one of the legs of his dinosaur pjs riding up his knee.

“Morning, pal,” Bucky says, lifting his arm and smiling when Lucas burrows into his side, face pressed against Bucky’s hip. “Happy New Year.”

Lucas answers by sniffling and rubbing his cheek against Bucky’s sweats. He’s almost five now, but sometimes he still seems like the little two year old running around Bucky’s yoga studio and wrapping himself with mats.

“Hey, buddy,” Steve says, bending down so he can kiss the top of Lucas’s head. “How about you sit on the table with Bucky, huh? Food’s almost ready.”

Lucas tilts his head to the side a little so he can blink blearily at Steve, before nodding and tugging at Bucky’s pants. “C’mon, Bucky,” he says. “Food.”

Bucky snorts but goes along, dropping on a chair beside Lucas and watching in amusement when his little guy folds his arms on top of the table and rests his chin on them. Lucas still looks like he’s about to fall back asleep at any second, but he perks up as soon as Bucky places a glass filled with juice in front of him.

“Oh,” Lucas says, eyes going from the glass to Bucky’s metal hand. “ _Oh_! You’re married!”

“What—,” Bucky starts, only to stop when Lucas grabs his hand, points at the ring, and grins. “Oh.”

“We’re not married yet, buddy,” Steve answers, putting a plate containing a small mountain of pancakes on the table. He’s also grinning, both of them looking so much alike Bucky’s heart tugs in his chest. “I just asked Bucky and he said yes.”

“But the ring,” Lucas frowns. “Married people wear rings.”

“There’s gotta be a ceremony first, kid,” Bucky says, voice a little weak. “And you knew?” Bucky glances at Lucas, who is trying to steal some pancakes without letting go of Bucky’s hand.

Lucas nods. “Dad asked me first.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, expectantly. He also helps Lucas fill up on pancakes, even going as far as putting some syrup on top of them.

“I wanted to make sure he was okay with it,” Steve explains.

“I’m okay,” Lucas answers, giving them a thumbs up. “So you’re not married?”

“You can let go of my hand, you know,” Bucky tells him, wiggling his fingers. “And not yet, no.”

“I know,” Lucas assures him, but goes on trying to eat his pancakes with just one hand. “But you will be. You’re marrying Dad.”

Bucky smiles at that, sneaking a glance at Steve. He knows they both look dumb with dreamy smiles on their faces, but it doesn’t matter. They’re _getting married_.

“I said yes,” Bucky says, stomach flipping. He finds Steve’s feet under the table, trapping them between his legs. “So I guess I am.”

“Guess?” Lucas frowns at him, cheeks bulging as he takes a bite of a pancake.

“I’m sure of it.”

“Good,” Lucas says, nodding.

“Good,” Steve repeats, ducking his head and smiling.

Bucky rolls his eyes at them, all fondness. “Since that’s decided.”

He should know that’s not the end of it, though. He has been raising Lucas with Steve for the past two and a half years, has seen him grow and learn right in front of his eyes.

So it shouldn’t surprise him when Lucas tugs at his fingers and asks, “Can I call you Dad now?”

But it does, and Bucky is just happy he hasn’t started eating yet, otherwise he would have choked and almost died, right then and there at the breakfast table. As it is, Bucky still swallows down the wrong pipe and starts coughing, eyes filling with tears, Steve right along there with him.

Lucas watches them with brows furrowed and mouth stuffed with food, letting go of Bucky’s hand so he can pat him on the arm and say, “There, there.”

“Lucas—,” Bucky starts, trying to catch his breath.

“That’s what you are, right?” Lucas asks, confused. “But I couldn’t call you that before. But now I can.”

“Son,” Steve says, voice soft as he speaks. “You wanted to call Bucky Dad before?”

Bucky doesn’t know whether his heart is breaking or putting itself back together and Lucas nods.

“That’s what he is,” Lucas replies. “Mr. Logan taught us about families at school and moms and dads and uncles and grandmas and everyone. And he said there are families with two dads or one mom or just grandpas or all of those, but what’s important is if the love you and take care of you. You and Bucky do that, right? So I have two dads. And Bucky is my dad.”

Bucky knows he and Steve are both helpless under that logic, not that either of them wants to deny it. They’ve had this conversation before, just the two of them, with words a lot similar to the ones Lucas is using right now. He still exchanges a quick glance with Steve, heart tripping in his chest when Steve just smiles at him and tips his chin in a small nod.

“You can call me whatever you want, Lucas,” Bucky tells him, running a hand through Lucas’s hair. “If that’s Dad, then it’s fine by me.”

Bucky laughs a little, eyes a bit wet, dropping a kiss to Lucas’s forehead. “Eat your breakfast.”

“Okay,” Lucas says, letting go of Bucky and gladly going back to his food.

Bucky looks up at Steve, then, his own face breaking into a smile. “I love you,” Bucky whispers to him.

“Love you, too,” Steve whispers back, feet knocking against Bucky’s under the table.

“Love you three,” Lucas pipes up, having heard them. “Dad, syrup, please?”

Bucky reaches for the bottle at the same time Steve does, their fingers brushing together and accidently knocking the bottle over the table.

“Oh,” Lucas says, looking from Steve to Bucky and back again. “Oh, no.”

Bucky can’t help it, not at the crestfallen look on Lucas’s face. He starts laughing, loud and bright and incredibly fucking happy.

“We’ll figure it out, pal,” Bucky promises him, hugging Lucas’s to him.

“But you two are Dad.” Lucas looks up at him with wide eyes. “How will you know?”

“We’ll know,” Steve answers, coming up to Lucas’s other side and squeezing him between both of them. “And if we don’t, you’ll just get both of us.”

Lucas considers that for a few seconds, and then nods. “Okay,” he says, hands patting at Steve and Bucky’s arms. “Hug now.”

They both oblige, Bucky taking the opportunity to steal a quick kiss from Steve over the top of Lucas’s head. As they go back to eating their breakfast, Bucky think he’ll never be as happy as he is right now, with his best guys, laughing and getting sticky with syrup and fighting for the last pancake.

Bucky’s glad when he’s proven wrong, a year later, at his and Steve’s wedding day, their friends and the Barnes family all together. Steve, looking gorgeous in a suit, eyes glinting and never leaving Bucky’s as he vows to be by Bucky’s side _‘til the end of the line_. Lucas cheering and clapping and trying to whistle but only until Bucky dips Steve and kisses him full on the mouth, his cheeks wet with tears, his heart full and soul singing.

“ _Gross_!” Lucas yells, but doesn’t try to run away when Steve picks him up and Bucky starts pressing kisses to his face, making him laugh.

Bucky’s glad when he’s proven wrong, two years after that, as he accepts a small squirming bundle into his arms, Steve at his side, both of them looking down at their daughter, face pink and scrunched up like she’s deciding if she likes them. Lucas, on Steve’s lap, peers down at her, curious but a little wary, until he touches the back of her hand and she wraps her fingers around one of his, holding on.

“I think she’s okay,” Lucas tells them, voice almost a whisper. “Can we name her Cookie?”

Bucky’s glad when he’s proven wrong, time and time and time again, as the years go by and his children grow up, his family grows bigger, and him and Steve and his friends grow old. He’s not even upset when his hair starts going grey at the temples, or when he can’t put his legs behind his head anymore, or when the wrinkles on his face are pronounced even when he isn’t laughing.

“We did good, didn’t we?” Bucky asks Steve, another year behind them, both of them cuddled up in bed, legs tangled together, faces so close their noses touch.

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve says, sliding one hand under the sweater Bucky’s wearing, one of Steve’s, worn and soft and a little threadbare. “We did great. Are you happy?”

Bucky smiles, kisses Steve’s pink mouth and doesn’t lie when he says, “I’ve never been happier, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **THE END!**
> 
>  
> 
> and thank you so much to everyone who's left kudos, subscribed to, commented, bookmarked, or reblogged the fic on tumblr. it now has a cute little banner you can see (and maybe reblog?) right [here](http://hawkguyz.tumblr.com/post/136468327446/itsy-bitsy-yoga-by-wearingtearing-stevebucky-59k). :* <3

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [tumblr](http://www.hawkguyz.tumblr.com)!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [O'hana Means Family](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7565647) by [mythras_fire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythras_fire/pseuds/mythras_fire)




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